jlspenc-84630 Reviews

The Great Escape (1963)

Great escapism.

[10/10 · 20 April 2024]

Very seldom will you find a crowd pleasing movie that's nearly three hours in length combined with tragic elements, yet is so entertaining that people will nevertheless watch over and over again. But John Sturges' THE GREAT ESCAPE is but one of a handful to accomplish that feat. Among the most popular of all war pictures, it had one of the finest casts ever assembled for a motion picture. Its success allowed James Garner to make the complicated leap from television stardom to that on the big screen. Steve McQueen already achieved that transition thanks to THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, but his performance here as Hilts ~plus his motorcycle stunts~ helped him transform from mere movie star to 60's icon. As for James Coburn and Charles Bronson, McQueen's co-stars from THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, they had to wait a few more years before attaining their laurels, but owing to THE GREAT ESCAPE, the die had been cast.

The Brits weren't overlooked either. Richard Attenborough was a reliable mainstay in British cinema, but THE GREAT ESCAPE allowed him to navigate the international threshold, where he alternated back and forth between Hollywood and England before branching out into directing. David McCallum wasn't as big a star as Attenborough, but he gained experience with top directors like Sturges, George Stevens, and John Huston prior to making the Atlantic crossing where The Man From U. N. C. L. E would soon await him. Donald Pleasance and Gordon Jackson were two others who saw their profiles expand beyond the Commonwealth as a result of THE GREAT ESCAPE. As for James Donald, he was already familiar to North American audiences from another famous P. O. W. Movie THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI.

THE GREAT ESCAPE was based upon the nonfiction book by Paul Brickhill, an Australian ex-pilot who detailed the mass escape attempt by Allied prisoners-of-war at Stalag Luft III, of which he played a minor role in. Distributed by United Artists, the property was bought by The Mirisch Company, who intuitively persuaded John Sturges to produce and direct. Sturges himself had wanted to adapt Brickhill's true story long before making THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, but the script was causing big headaches.

Author James Clavell, also a former P. O. W, was one of two credited screenwriters, but, according to Sturges, THE GREAT ESCAPE continued production without a complete script, a tribulation that frustrated cast and crew alike. The director later revealed that almost ten different writers were brought in during filming for rewrites, and said of the ordeal: "I'm not proposing that's a good way to make a picture, but it was the right way to make this one".

THE GREAT ESCAPE was shot entirely in and around Munich, West Germany. Exteriors of the prison camp were filmed in a forest on the outskirts of the city, while the interiors of the barracks were photographed at Bavaria Studios. The latter was chosen because its size could accommodate the width of the specially constructed "tunnel", which was so outspread it literally encompassed from one wall of the soundstage to the other end.

The movie begins with truckload after truckload of Allied prisoners-of-war being delivered to a brand new detention camp in an unspecified area within Germany ~the real Stalag Luft III was located in Lower Silesia. With two perimeters of barbed wire fencing and a solitary confinement section known as the cooler, this is an exclusively built Supermax designed to house every known escape artist and keep them there, or as Luftwaffe Commandant Von Luger summaries it, "putting all of the rotten eggs into one basket, and we intend to watch this basket carefully ".

The new arrivals barely get settled into their barracks before some decide to test the waters, with none of them successful in sneaking past the German captors. The most brazen of them, Captain Hilts, nearly gets himself shot when he discovers a blind spot between the watchtowers. His cocky insolence towards Von Luger earns him a twenty day stay in the cooler. But most of the P. O. W.'s refrain from escaping for the time being....at least until they can detect their new home's weak spots. Hendley (Garner) is the scrounger ~something the actor was during the Korean War~ a man proficient at bartering, through blackmail or good ol' fashioned charm, whatever bootleg materials his friends will need.

Soon, the Stalag will be rolling out the not-so-welcome wagon to another....um, lodger. A handcuffed Royal Air Force Squadron Leader Roger Bartlett (Attenborough) is personally escorted to Von Luger's office by the SS. A known mastermind of of numerous Allied escapes, Bartlett ~codenamed Big X~ is remanded to the Luftwaffe, but not before being warned in no uncertain terms that any future breakout will be his last....ever!! Undaunted, he is already contemplating his next undertaking as he's reunited with Senior British Officer Ramsey (Donald). Determined to stick it to the SS, Bartlett's scheme is a bold one: to bust out 250 men from this supposedly escape proof camp, a higher number than had ever been dared before.

Luckily for Bartlett ~and thanks to the Germans~ he has all the "rotten eggs" at his disposal. Second-in-command Macdonald (Jackson) oversees all Allied intelligence in the camp. Danny (Bronson) and Willie are the talented tunnel kings; Australian Sedgwick (Coburn) is the manufacturer; nearsighted Blyth's (Pleasance) specialty is forgery; Ashley-Pitt (McCallum) is responsible for dispersing the underground dirt without the enemy becoming al the wiser. Bartlett's plan is for the digging of not one, but three tunnels ~dubbed Tom, Dick, and Harry~ to be excavated simultaneously. If the Germans ever discover Tom, then the prisoners can shift their efforts to Dick and Harry without disrupting the timetable.

As for Hilts and Ives (aka the Mole), when they're not cooling their heels in the cooler, they're hatching their own jailbreak. It's small potatoes compared to what Bartlett is engineering, but Big X nevertheless gives them the go-ahead. His reasoning is that if the Allies make no attempt at all to fly the coop, then Von Luger may be suspicious of a larger operation. Tom,Dick, and Harry must take precedence.

The real great escape was engineered by British prisoners-of-war, but because American capital was funding the movie the powerbrokers were insistent on American characters being involved. Despite his creative freedom Sturges was hardly in a position to say no to the men with the cheque books. That being said, remembering England's outrage over Errol Flynn winning the war in Burma, Sturges made certain that the British received the proper credit for their role in planning the breakout. He even insisted that THE GREAT ESCAPE's premiere take place in London, not Hollywood.

Steve McQueen's well-known temperament on movie sets almost resulted in Sturges firing him from THE GREAT ESCAPE, but fortunately for both of them he stuck it out. McQueen was persuaded to channel that obstinacy into his performance, and between the good reviews he received and the publicity over his stunt work, McQueen's subsequent superstardom made him a near-rival for Paul Newman. The entire cast is good, but I was somewhat amused by James Coburn's accent as I watched him portray Sedgwick. At first Coburn speaks with a labored Australian twang, but then drifts back to his native Nebraskan tongue and then back and forth. I wish I as as well travelled as Coburn's dialect.

With an all-star cast ~albeit one in the making~ like this, you can expect all hell to break loose and, sure enough, it does!! The almost three hours of running time, from the escape's inception and planning to the breakout itself and the Allied officers' attempts to reach Switzerland, it just flies by. Although there are tragic moments to be had, THE GREAT ESCAPE has its share of humorous touches too. One such example is on the Fourth of July when the American airmen introduce their British colleagues to moonshine, a home brew as alien to the English as Earl Grey tea and pints of Guinness are to the Yanks.

All in all, there are many factors for the movie's success, not least of all West Germany's scenery, dutifully caught on celluloid by cinematographer Daniel Fapp (WEST SIDE STORY). But I would be derelict in my review if I didn't tip my cap to Elmer Bernstein's memorable score, a piece that's almost as famous as the one he composed for THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN. In layman's terms, THE GREAT ESCAPE is great escapism.🔚

Planet of the Apes (1968)

Apes of wrath.

[10/10 · 10 April 2024]

1968 saw the theatrical release of two intelligent, thought provoking science fictions which forever altered the cinematic landscapes, at least insofar as sci-fi's were concerned. 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY was a cerebral, visually innovative meditation on evolution and the cosmos that had a profound influence on future generations within both the film and scientific communities. The other one, PLANET OF THE APES, was the more conventional, audience friendly of the pair but just as allegorical as Kubrick's classic, thanks to an incisive screenplay co-written by Twilight Zone maestro Rod Serling.

PLANET OF THE APES was derived from the novel "Monkey Planet " by Pierre Boulle, a French author whose other noteworthy book was about some bridge spanning across the Kwai River. (See if you can guess which movie it was adapted into based on the cryptic clues I just provided.) 😁 The enormous success of PLANET OF THE APES was such that it spawned three sequels and a short-lived television show. At the dawn of the millennium, Tim Burton came out with his own version that completely lacked in imagination. However, as lackluster as that interpretation was, it did inspire a reboot in the 2010's, beginning with RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES, which featured no characters from the original series but was a considerable improvement over Burton's take.

Charlton Heston was one of the most bankable stars of the 50's and 60's, so he was the logical and ~as far as I know~ the only choice for the lead role of Taylor. It was Heston who recommended director Franklin B Schaffner to 20th Century Fox on the basis of their work together on THE WAR LORD. For the part of Dr Zaius, Edward G Robinson was originally sought but, already in his seventies, the veteran actor found that special ape make-up he'd be required to don would've been too uncomfortable, especially since PLANET OF THE APES was to be filmed partially in the Utah desert during the summer of '67. Shakespearean thespian Maurice Evans was brought in to replace Robinson.

The remainder of the cast, including Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter, were also obligated to sit for hours in the make-up chair while the special ape costumes were being applied from head to toe. This made everything from enunciating through latex to handling the props a relearning process. And although Heston did not have to endure the daily prosthetic applications, the production was no picnic for him either. Suffering from the flu throughout most of the shoot, he tolerated, without complaint, being doused repeatedly with a water hose, that is, when he wasn't dragged across the ground in a net or being belted with rubber rocks. Heston later described the filming of PLANET OF THE APES as the most physically demanding of his career. (It's a good thing for him that William Wyler wasn't directing.)

Taking place more than two millenia into the future, four astronauts ~three male, one female ~ splash down in the lake of a distant planet in another solar system. The impact awakens the three men from their long hibernation; the woman tragically succumbed to old age due to an air breach in her sealed chamber. With the spacecraft now sinking, the survivors gather up the essentials and abandon spaceship. Using an inflatable life raft, they paddle their way across the large salt water basin until reaching the shore.

Taylor is the leader of an expedition that is now has no choice but to explore their new home away from home. After one of them plants a miniature American flag in the sand, the threesome hike across a dry, barren wasteland that doesn't seem to have any vegetation at all. And with only three days worth of food and water in their backpacks, they better find some sign of life soon!! The first twenty minutes of PLANET OF THE APES contains so much of Rod Serling's Kafkaesque surrealism that if you didn't see his name in the opening credits, you'd suspect he had some hand in it.

The astronauts eventually discover signs of life, both in vegetative and apparent human form, the latter being scraggly looking mutes attired only in loin cloths. Gazing at these primitive (and very) distant relatives of those they left behind on Earth, Taylor confidently observes "If this is the best they've got, then we'll be running this planet in six months". But he might be a little premature with that assessment. Suddenly and without warning, the area is overrun by a hunting party of gorillas riding on horseback and carrying rifles!! Scarcely able to believe his eyes, Taylor and his colleagues join the humans as they frantically attempt to elude the simian invaders, but to no avail. He is shot on the throat, while one is captured, while one is killed and the the other captured.

Recovering in a crude, pre-historic looking hospital and unable to speak due to his injuries, Taylor notices that apes are the ruling species on this planet....and that humans are the wildlife!!! Luckily for him the leading veterinarian is Zira (Hunter), a compassionate doctor and psychologist ~and member of the chimpanzee order~ who suspects that Taylor is a different breed from the other humans caged up for observation. (If being able to write and make a paper airplane is any indication of being different!). With only her archeologist fiancé Cornelius (McDowall) ~also a chimpanzee~ on her side, Zira pleads with the theocratic ruling council of orangutans, represented by Dr Zaius, to spare Taylor from vivisection.

Although not technically a theologian, Zaius is the holder of two important titles: Minister of Science and Chief Defender of the Faith ~wow, talk about a conflict of interest!! He may not be as close-minded as his peers, but he possesses a hostility towards all humans that runs deeper than that of his fellow simians, and Taylor has definitely given him an uncomfortable vibe. Upon learning he's scheduled for castration, Taylor desperately flees from his masters and leads them on an exhausting pursuit. He is ultimately recaptured....but not before regaining his voice! And boy, does he have a lot of grievances to get off his chest!!!

Whatever Boulle's novel is like, Serling's sterling adaptation ~which includes a few rewrites by Michael Wilson~ contains some subtextually clever Marxism. The script is replete with 20th century Earth parables transposed to this forbidden planet, particularly in depicting its societal hierarchy. The orangutans represent the ruling class theocracy, while the chimpanzees are symbolic of the proletariat masses and maligned intelligentsia. The gorillas, obviously, epitomize the stormtroopers (Nazi or Star Wars, take your pick) as they brutally enforce an unfair status quo with passion and prejudice bereft of any empathy. And the apes' ancient scriptures passed down since the beginning of their time have biblical overtones written all over.

Speaking of religion, PLANET OF THE APES is also an ingenious rumination on the age-old conflict between science vs theology. Cornelius and Zira could be interpreted as their world's Charles Darwin and Jane Goodall, two primates seeking to better understand the origin of their species while navigating the choppy waters of monotheistic narrow-mindedness. Yet it's not without its humor either. When Zira reluctantly accepts Taylor's request for a goodbye kiss, she says "All right, but....you're so damn ugly." Or the clever simian variations on our own adages: "You know what they say. Human see, human do"; "Some apes, it seems, are more equal than others"; "I never met an ape I didn't like".

PLANET OF THE APES became one of the biggest hits in Heston's career, but the performances of the excellent supporting cast match him, a task made more challenging for them under the incredible ape make-up designed by John Chambers. Another asset is Jerry Goldsmith's innovative music that deviates from that genre's standard thematic arrangements by utilizing some interesting choices of instruments. And Schaffner's brilliant direction cemented him at Hollywood's A-list ~20th Century Fox was so impressed that they asked him to assume command of PATTON.

But what today's viewers contextualize from PLANET OF THE APES is its final frame, one of the most jolting in motion picture history. One doesn't have to be a science fiction geek to appreciate the powerful statement it made in 1968, and which it continues to every time it's shown on television. Seldom has a wordless image ~after Taylor vents his anger~ provoked such silent shock as this one. That is what good storytelling can do. 🔚

Seven Days in May (1964)

The age of treason.

[10/10 · 6 April 2024]

One of the pleasures that come with living in a constitutional democracy is knowing that we'll have the inalienable right to elect the men and women we want to represent us in government. Other countries, such as Argentina, Spain, Greece, the Congo, Haiti and the Dominican Republic, weren't so lucky, having grievously suffered under the jack booted heel of military dictatorships. Those of us here in Canada, Australia, the United States and all across much of Europe have long taken our liberties for granted so often it's assumed that a coup d'etat would never take root in our nations. Or could it?? This is the frightening possibility posed by SEVEN DAYS IN MAY.

President John Kennedy certainly understood the implications, having butted heads with some of the more hawkish members of his armed forces, especially during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Former president Dwight Eisenhower also sympathized. In Ike's final televised address to the nation, just days before handing the White House keys to his young successor, he warned his fellow Americans about the dangers of a military industrial complex, though at the time, Mr and Mrs John Q Public had no idea what he was referring to.

"Seven Days In May" raised plenty of eyebrows when it was first published in 1962. Kirk Douglas quickly purchased the movie rights from the authors against the advice of Hollywood powerbrokers, as well as being nagged by his own consternation over how Nato allies would react. Those concerns were alleviated during a formal D. C. banquet when he happened to encounter JFK himself, whose eyebrows weren't the the slightest bit ruffled. Also under the belief that the book would make a great motion picture, the president encouraged his guest to proceed with SEVEN DAYS IN MAY, as Douglas noted in his autobiography: "If I had any doubts, this one 'yea' drowned out the other 'nays'!". Tragically, Kennedy would not live to see the screen version because he was assassinated in Dallas on November 22, 1963.

Douglas also saw SEVEN DAYS IN MAY as an opportunity to reunite with Burt Lancaster, and allowed him to choose between two roles: the general or his adjutant ~he opted to play the former. Highly impressed with John Frankenheimer's visionary style, Douglas asked him to take the reins of SEVEN DAYS IN MAY. At first Frankenheimer agreed to the offer....but then he discovered that Lancaster was also in it, and promptly withdrew. Apparently, when they collaborated on BIRDMAN OF ALCATRAZ, Lancaster ~who was executive producer~ clashed repeatedly with Frankenheimer, their disagreements getting to the point where the muscular actor settled the matter by physically humiliating his director in front of the cast and crew. It was only after Douglas personally assured Frankenheimer that Lancaster would not be a problem on the set that he grudgingly agreed to participate. And there no fireworks between them this time around.

The year is 1970, and President Jordan Lyman (Fredric March) has recently signed a controversial nuclear disarmament treaty with the Soviet Union, an action which, according to a Gallup poll, only 29% of Americans support. Naturally, the John Birch Society types are up in arms about it, as are conservative and Main Street U. S. A., but nowhere is the opposition more keenly felt than in the military. The most lionized figure on the right is Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Air Force General James Mattoon Scott (Lancaster), a modern-day "George Washington who could walk on water", a man who could be voted into the Oval Office if the election was held at that moment.

It's the second week of May, and both the pro and anti factions of the treaty are engaged in a brawl outside the White House, while over at the Senate, Scott once again stresses his opposition to the agreement. One of Lyman's allies on the Hill is Ray Clark (Edmond O'Brien), the senior Senator from Georgia and a longtime friend of the president. Seared behind Scott is his adjutant Colonel Martin "Jiggs" Casey (Douglas), a Marine who's on the same page as his boss insofar as the pact is concerned. Where Jiggs differs from Scott is his fidelity to civilian authority; otherwise he's loyal to the general.

On Monday Jiggs is paid a visit in his Pentagon office from an old buddy who's in town on business. The friend is an executive officer of a top secret military base in Texas called Site Y, yet casually mentions in confidence to Casey that the troops stationed there spend more time training for offensive action instead of on defensive measures. Jiggs also stumbles onto private correspondence between the Joint Chiefs and other ranking commanders about a wagering pool for the Preakness races on the upcoming Sunday. Nothing wrong with a little betting for sure....buy why would General Scott want those communications kept classified?

On Tuesday, Casey's apprehension detector continues to be set off. At a party the previous evening, a powerful pro-Scott senate has revealed knowledge about a clandestine military exercise ~in which the president is to participate in~ scheduled for Sunday....except that no one on the Hill or in the media is to know anything about it!! And to top it off, Jiggs discovers a crumpled piece of paper discarded in the Joint Chiefs wastebasket that contains abbreviated plans to airlift those Site Y troops to various metropolitan cities on Sunday, the very kind of plans put in place when martial law is declared!!!😨

Convinced that General Scott and a handful of ultra-nationalist elements within the military are plotting a coup d'etat on Sunday, Jiggs reluctantly takes his concerns directly to Jordan Lyman and presidential aide Paul Gerard (Martin Balsam). Despite Gerard's skepticism that something so blatantly unconstitutional could be perpetrated without setting off red flags, Lyman prefers to err on the side of caution. With four full days until Sunday, the president assembles an inner circle of trusted colleagues to investigate and possibly avert a putsch. Along with Jiggs and Gerard, there are Ray Clark, Treasury Secretary Chris Todd, and the head of the Secret Service.

It's now Wednesday. Lyman instructs the Secret Service to surveill the alleged conspirators around the clock while Senator Clark's orders are to locate Site Y in Texas. Gerard's task is to fly out to Gibraltar carrying a written statement to be presented in person to the admiral who declined to take part in the "bet"....with explicit directives to obtain the man's reply in writing. Assigned to report on the activities of Scott himself, Jiggs is now the White House's man on the inside, but the general is not stupid. Already suspicious that Casey may be harboring suspicions, Scott grants him a three-day pass just to get him out of the Pentagon, effective immediately. From Thursday to Sunday, there will be tense days indeed as the unpopular Lyman attempts to save his republic from a popular demagogue.

Throughout its running time SEVEN DAYS IN MAY retains an extraordinary level of suspense considering that there's not a heck of a lot of action, aside from the opening riot on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. A great deal of credit to that can be attributed to the expertly tight plotting of Serling's adaptation, along with Frankenheimer's taut direction. It's also helpful that SEVEN DAYS has an excellent cast. O'Brien was Oscar nominated for his performance as the soused Southern senator, and March is his usual superb self as the embattled Chief Executive. In a smaller role than she's normally accustomed to, Ava Gardner is the socialite mistress of Scott's who could be the general's Achilles heel.

Considering that Serling did not write the novel in which the movie was based on, there are touches in SEVEN DAYS IN MAY that bear his style. The black & white photography, accompanied by Jerry Goldsmith's tense score, conjures up a Twilight Zone vibe; whether that was intentional or not will never be known, as all principals involved have now passed on. SEVEN DAYS IN MAY must have made a positive impression on Joel and Ethan Coen. I case you didn't notice,in FARGO William H Macy's character has two scenes in which he speaks on the phone to a client named Riley Dieffenbach....which happens to be the names of two Joint Chiefs that are in cahoots with Lancaster's treacherous seditionist. Coincidence?? I think not!!

SEVEN DAYS IN MAY was partially inspired by the problems President Kennedy had with two right-wing generals noted for their extreme anti-communist viewpoints: Edwin Walker and Curtis LeMay. And although not specifically referenced to, the drama also recalls the headaches Harry Truman faced trying to rein in Douglas MacArthur during the Korean War. In the post-Cold War 21st century, it's interesting to note how the roles have reversed. From 2017 to 2021 it has been the military who have shown themselves to be the true diplomats, exercising caution while locking horns with a reckless president out of genuine concern for the future of their nation. SEVEN DAYS IN MAY and like-minded movies remind us of democracy's fragility....and how important it is to fight like hell if that liberty is to be preserved. 🔚

American Graffiti (1973)

Where were you in the summer of '62?

[10/10 · 30 March 2024]

I don't know what it is, but there's something about youth oriented coming-of-age movies that's served as a launching pad for some successful careers. Hollywood had given us plenty of examples, from REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE and THE LAST PICTURE SHOW to THE OUTSIDERS and STAND BY ME. But for sheer nostalgia value AMERICAN GRAFFITI is the one that provokes the biggest trip down memory lane. The film's genesis lays with its creator George Lucas, who based it on his own experiences growing up in Modesto. It was only his second feature, and we all know what happened as a result of AMERICAN GRAFFITI's unexpected success. It gave him the clout to make his dream picture, some minor space opera set in a galaxy far, far away. (Insert sarcasm emoji).

As for those appearing in front of the camera, the top billed Richard Dreyfuss was a virtual unknown with background in theatre and television before his performance as Curt Henderson put him on every casting agent's radar. Ron Howard is known today as an A-list director, but in 1973 he was a 19-year old former child star best remembered by the public as Opie on The Andy Griffith Show. AMERICAN GRAFFITI increased Cindy Williams' profile, where she would soon have the role of her career on TV's Laverne And Shirley.

One Day At A Time fans are no doubt aware that Mackenzie Phillips also got her start on AMERICAN GRAFFITI playing a preteen. Candace Clark and Charles Martin Smith didn't achieve the same level of stardom as did the others, but they received their big breaks as unlikely lovebirds Debbie and Terry; ditto with Paul LeMat as John Milner. Prior to Suzanne Somers' small screen breakthrough on Three's Company, her (mostly) dialogue-free cameo as the blonde in the white T-bird placed her face on Hollywood's map. But the biggest star to have reaped the AMERICAN GRAFFITI gravy train was Harrison Ford, here playing the badass Bob Falfa before the immortal roles of Han Solo and Indiana Jones ~not to mention John Book and Richard Kimble~ one of the highest grossing box office draws of all time.

Curiously, the one person associated with AMERICAN GRAFFITI whose name had any drawing power was Francis Ford Coppola, the current It Director deservedly basking in the limelight with THE GODFATHER smashing attendance records all over the globe and becoming an overall cultural phenomenon. A longtime friend of George Lucas, Coppola offered his services as producer to help underwrite AMERICAN GRAFFITI and calm the jitters of Universal executives who reacted as if they were entrusting Lucas with BEN HUR instead of the modest budget given to him.

Unforseen logistical problems caused some minor delays in the production, forcing Coppola to defend his pal when the front office began breathing down the neck of a stressed out Lucas. Two technical veterans not originally involved with the movie stepped in and came to the youth director's aid: cinematographer Haskell Wexler and editor Walter Murch. In Wexler's case, Lucas was so grateful for the assistance that not only did he credit him onscreen as "visual consultant", but also gave him a percentage of the profits as well.

Opening with "Rock Around The Clock", AMERICAN GRAFFITI takes place on an August evening in 1962 Modesto, California. Childhood friends Curt Henderson and Steve Bolander (Howard) are two recent high school graduates about to leave in the morning for an unnamed college in the East. This is an opportunity to congregate at Mel's Drive-In for the last time ~at least until Christmas~ with friends Terry Fields, the Milhouse Van Houten of the group, and self-assured John Milner, a drag-racing enthusiast who's a cross between James Dean and Fonzie.

Curt, a surrogate of Lucas himself, is the intellectual of the quartet, but even with his academic smarts he remains unsure what he wants to do with his life, and therefore has qualms about leaving. His kid sister Laurie (Williams) happens to be Steve's girlfriend, and in her stage of puppy love she's not enthused about being separated from her beau, especially when she'll stillbe completing her Grade 12 studies. But her melancholy is soon replaced by resentment when Steve suggests that they both see other people while he's away.

For the first portion of the evening, the group will be split up because Curt, Steve, and Laurie plan to attend a sock hop ~50's lingo for a dance~ at their high school, while the town's rebel-without-a-cause John declines to revisit a place he couldn't wait to get out of. Milner would much prefer to do what he does every night: cruising the strip in his yellow Ford Coupe hotrod and running afoul of the law. The bespectacled Terry, on the other hand, is in a state of euphoria after Steve entrusts him with the keys to his '58 Chevy, which will certainly improve his social life in contrast to his Vespa scooter.

Taking Laurie's car to the dance, she and Steve are in the front seat while Curt is seated in the back. As they are stopped at an intersection, a blonde in a white Thunderbird slowly pulls over beside them and mouths "I love you" to Curt before turning onto the connecting street. He desperately tries to convince Steve to follow the car, but to no avail. Curt's (mis)adventures are just about to begin after leaving the sock hop early as he finds himself on the pavement without his set of wheels....which is still parked at Mel's. Searching for the mystery blonde who sporadically appears throughout the night, he inadvertently falls in with the Pharoahs, a gang of young hoodlums.

Meanwhile, a speed demon named Bob Falfa cruises around in a '55 Chevy, seeking out John Milner in his bid for dragstrip supremacy, but Big John has his own problems. Driving up and down the streets in his Ford Coupe, he's on the lookout for this evening's one-night stand, and in doing so, unwittingly beguiles a girl who's a little too young for his tastes. 13-year old Laurie is awestruck to be in the presence of a local legend, but John would like nothing better than to ditch her and search for someone who's more on the mature side. As for Terry, he somehow defies his social awkwardness and manages to pick up bleach blonde Debbie, the archetypal "bad girl" who will open his four-eyes to a brand new world....as long as he maintains the charade that Steve's ultra-cool Chevy is actually his own.

Linking together all the various characters and disparate stories is the magnificent rock & roll music blaring over everyone's car radios, with the occasional interjections from the raspy voiced "outlaw" deejay Wolfman Jack (who appears as himself towards the movie's end). There's a certain poignancy evoked which Lucas cannily achieved by employing carefully selected songs running the gamut from the early giants (Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly) to the lesser known (The Monotones and The Platters).

In this humble would-be writer's opinion, I think AMERICAN GRAFFITI remains George Lucas' best work because it works on a human level not found in STAR WARS. Audiences found themselves relating to any one of the individuals depicted and, regardless of what era people grew up in, they saw their own maturation mirrored in the experiences of Curt or Steve or Laurie or Terry or Big John Milner.

Ironically, since AMERICAN GRAFFITI was responsible for propelling many careers, the only acting Oscar nomination from the movie was for Candace Clark who, inexplicably, failed to capitalize on the sudden recognition. Equally baffling was Paul LeMat's stagnation in the wake of what was seen as a revelatory performance as John Milner. Conventional wisdom dictated that LeMat should have followed Dreyfuss and Ford into the A-list, yet for some reason that never happened. Perhaps Quentin Tarantino will find room for him in his 10th ~and supposedly final~ film.

The success of AMERICAN GRAFFITI inaugurated a wave of 50's retro nostalgia that continued throughout the Seventies. But one aspect of the film that prevents it from becoming a rose tinted blast from the past is the postscript climax that details the fates of Curt, Steve, Terry, and John. They don't know it on the airport tarmac, but that final scene of them seeing Curt off will be the last time they'll all be together in the same place. Ahead of them are the peaks and valleys that defined the Sixties, whether it be Dallas, the Beatles, Vietnam, Woodstock, or Apollo 11. It's a bittersweet moment. 🔚

Brief Encounter (1945)

A Lean piece of filmmaking.

[10/10 · 27 March 2024]

Hollywood has not only failed to make a truly decent romantic comedy since the 1960's ~with the exception of GROUNDHOG DAY~ but they haven't made a worthwhile romantic drama either. Much of that creative famine in the movies can be traced back to the 1980's when the New Wave filmmakers and their predecessors, craftsmen who believed in respecting their audiences' intelligence, were suddenly phased out. Blockbuster popcorn fare like TOP GUN and GHOSTBUSTERS were now "in", ushering in an era of superficiality and razzle dazzle in lieu of character exposition and artistry. During that fallow epoch, 90% of the love stories that did work were indies that could only get made if the artists involved were forced to sell their souls to Satan, aka Harvey Weinstein.

The majority of the romcoms and chick flicks were nothing more than generic fluff packages bearing an excess of sappy, contrived drivel, usually adapted from the likes of Nicholas Sparks. As for those D-list properties produced exclusively for the conservative Hallmark Channel, they were the equivalent of Lysol wipes: sanitized and disposable. For those seeking a genuinely romantic movie that doesn't insult their intellect, fans should forgo the contemporary offerings and instead extract from the past. Anyone sincerely interested in going far back would be well advised to check out David Lean's BRIEF ENCOUNTER.

By 1945, World War Two was coming to an end, but so was Lean's four-picture contract with playwright and renaissance man Noël Coward. With three movies already behind them, they decided to conclude their professional partnership by adapting Coward's "Still Life", a one-act play which he'd written before the war. Writing the screenplay with Coward, Lean decided to bring on Ronald Neame and Anthony Havelock-Allan, two colleagues of his, to expand the story beyond the train station's tea room setting to include other interior and exterior locations.

Casting the right man and woman as the lovers would be of paramount importance if BRIEF ENCOUNTER was to gel properly. Stage actress Celia Johnson had already appeared in two of Lean and Coward's pictures, but overall she wasn't really enamored with film acting; the adrenaline rush of the theatre was her first love. However, the screenplay was so good, as was the character they wrote for her, that it was probably going to be the finest leading screen role she would ever be offered. Because the ongoing war effort had depleted most of Britain's leading men (and Hollywood's), casting the male lead seemed a trickier feat. But as luck would have it, Trevor Howard was recently discharged from his military duties and was therefore available.

The heroine of BRIEF ENCOUNTER is Laura Jesson, a middle class housewife living in a fictional provincial town called Ketchworth, presumably in Lancashire, with husband Fred and two children, a son and daughter. Although her marriage remains solid it has settled into a pattern of domestic complacency. Laura doesn't seem to have a profession, but it's assumed that Fred has a good paying job to sustain the family because he continues to wear his pinstriped suit even when he's relaxing after dinner working on the Times crossword.

Laura and everyone in her orbit are typically reserved bourgeois Englanders: so frightfully British as they parade their famous stiff upper lips while being unfailingly polite to one another on the outside. But on the inside, their emotions are caught in a tailspin. Laura certainly falls into those categories as she returns one Thursday evening by commuter train to her house in a state of suppressed anguish, but to Fred she attributes that anxiety to mere fainting spells. Quietly trying to relax beside the fireplace, her mind is racing all over while he focuses on his crossword puzzle.

Through her own voiceover narration Laura confesses to infidelity, or more precisely, it's the confession she wishes to unburden herself of. Her story dates back several weeks starting at the (also fictional) town of Milford where Laura travels to by train either for shopping or taking in an afternoon matinee. On a particular Thursday, while standing outside the Milford railway café, she is temporarily blinded when a passing train churns up grit that settles into her right eye. Coming to her aid is Dr Alec Harvey, a married general practitioner residing in the town of Churley, but whose practice brings him to the local hospital every Thursday.

After thanking him for his help, Laura and Alec go their separate ways until exactly one week later, when they should happen upon each other at a street corner outside of a pharmacy. For a second time they exchange pleasantries ~as only middle-class Brits can~ before once again before bidding one another adieu. The third Thursday is when things start happening. Dining alone at a busy restaurant during the lunch hour, Laura spots Alec trying to find a table and allows him to join her. Enjoying the other one's company, they decide to take in a picture together at her favorite cinema, followed by a walk to the railway station tea room.

Because of their conflicting schedules, Laura and Alec now agree to meet every Thursday, the only day of the of the week that can accommodate them both. When it arrives, she keeps the appointment by showing up at the same restaurant, but Alec fails to appear. By evening Laura is almost ready to write the whole day off, but rushing up to the railway platform at the last moment is Alec, who apologetically attributes his absence to a busier that usual shift at the hospital. In 2024 the pair simply could have kept in touch via texting.

The following week Laura and Alec attend another afternoon matinee where they find the second features superior in quality to the headliner. This is followed by a pleasant walk in a botanical garden and a paddle in the park's artificial lake. Up until then, Laura and Alec have done nothing to feel guilty about, but at this point their feelings have intensified. It's clear to both of them that, despite their marital statuses, they've fallen in love. The passionate kiss they share before parting on their respective trains pretty much seals the deal. It's only a matter of time before they'll want to physically consummate at a prearranged location (subtly implied in those days).

Much of the reason BRIEF ENCOUNTER works so well is due to the believable chemistry between the lead characters, a chemistry which mainstream audiences could relate to. Laura and Alec aren't Irene Dunne and Cary Grant; they're just two ordinary, anguished people who never expected to meet their soul mate outside of their marriage, yet remain committed to their own marital unions. The railway station tea room could almost be considered a third character, a sort of matchmaker that serves as an introduction to the two lovers and yet is also present at their melancholic uncoupling. The Carnforth terminal, located 62 miles north of Liverpool where the exteriors were shot, has itself become a popular tourist destination for romantic diehards and fans of BRIEF ENCOUNTER, of which there are many.

The acting, much like any other David Lean picture, is exemplary. Described as a man who talked about film the way a Jesuit priest would about his vocation, Lean obsessed over every detail of shooting, and was not always the nicest person to work for. But BRIEF ENCOUNTER ~which earned him his first nomination for an Academy Award~ was free of the high-powered conflicts he occasionally had with his actors. Speaking decades later about Celia Johnson's performance in an interview prior to his death, Lean rhapsodized "She was wonderful". Johnson also received an Oscar nod, an unusual recognition by Hollywood at that time for a British actress who had no interest whatsoever in relocating to Tinseltown.

Prior to his becoming one of the greatest directors of all time, Lean was the finest film editor England ever produced, and his cutting room years proved to be a fruitful apprenticeship. That on-the-job training gave him an intuitive sense of when to insert a given frame and when to apply the dialogue and/or music. Speaking of the latter, Lean deviated from the usual postproduction practice of deploying an orchestral score to set the emotion, opting instead of using Rachmaninoff's No.2 piano concerto because he felt a studio composition might come across as schmaltzy.

Arriving in theaters shortly after the war's end, BRIEF ENCOUNTER became as popular in America as it was in Britain. Being the shortest movie in David Lean's filmography, BRIEF ENCOUNTER also had a profound impact on his fellow directors. Billy Wilder admitted that he always wondered about the flat where Laura and Alec were about to consummate their attraction, and how and when the arrangements for using the key was facilitated. That curiosity was the genesis for THE APARTMENT.

Another was a young Robert Altman who, fresh out of wartime service and feeling restless, impulsively decided to check out BRIEF ENCOUNTER, not entirely certain of what to expect from a British picture. By the time it was over, Altman knew where his career path was headed. One of the traits of any great film is the effect it has on future generations, and BRIEF ENCOUNTER accomplished that in spades.🔚

Seconds (1966)

A chiller is reborn.

[9/10 · 20 March 2024]

John Frankenheimer's nightmarish SECONDS is considered by many to be the third act to his celebrated Paranoia Trilogy, preceded by THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE and SEVEN DAYS IN MAY. All three were dark thrillers that juxtaposed the idealistic side of pre-Vietnam 1960's against the darker remnants of McCarthyism that still festered beneath the surface. Based on a 1963 novel, SECONDS doesn't so much tackle the nerve-wracking issues of its day (the Cold War and the military industrial complex), but rather the Mad Men consumerist culture that pervaded middle class life since the end of the Second World War.

Frankenheimer saw the book and his adaptation of it as a Kafkaesque statement on the superficiality of the American Dream, not specifically targeting Madison Avenue by name but scorching everything it stands for. By using SECONDS' rebranded hero as a prism Frankenheimer debunks the advertising sector's selling points of material success being equated with happiness, the perpetuated myth that the only thing standing between us and fulfillment is a more effective mouthwash or deodorant.

Responsible for producing SECONDS was a subsidiary company belonging to Kirk Douglas, but the actor wasn't slated, nor seemed to be interested in, playing the dual roles of Arthur Hamilton and Antiochus Wilson. Frankenheimer sent the script overseas to the man generally regarded as the greatest thespian in the world, and Laurence Olivier liked the part(s) and story's concept enough to say yes. But the money men at Paramount believed that even a name like Olivier's wasn't big enough to finance the movie. (Hmm, I thought casting someone with one Academy Award, five nominations, a knighthood, and his own production company in England would be sufficient to justify their confidence.)

Rock Hudson, one of the last contract players from the old studio system, expressed eagerness in SECONDS. Arriving in Hollywood in the late Forties with no acting background at all, Hudson's ambition was to be a movie star foremost. But upon reaching leading man status, he desired to be taken more seriously as an actor, yet fully aware that he was never going to be anywhere in the same dramatic league as Olivier. Yet Hudson remained determined to show his fans there was more to him than mere beefcake. He charmed Frankenheimer into casting him in SECONDS, even offering the use of his own enterprise, amusingly called Gibraltar Films, to help with the financing. As for the two main parts, because Hudson was more physically suited for the "after exhibit" of Wilson, Frankenheimer agreed to split up the intended dual roles by employing another ~and older~ actor to portray the "before exhibit" of Hamilton.

The eerie Twilight Zone/Outer Limits tone of SECONDS is established in the opening credits with a visually disorienting title sequence designed by Saul Bass, a man best known for his work with Hitchcock. Complementing the hallucinatory imagery is a chilling Jerry Goldsmith score that probably would've unnerved Hitch himself. As Frankenheimer's name fades from the screen, the blurry photography sharpens as it opens at New York City's Grand Central Station, focusing on Arthur Hamilton as he purchases a newspaper and walks towards the commuter train that will transport him home to Scarsdale. As he is about to get onboard, Hamilton is handed a piece of paper with an address written on it. The mysterious stranger who delivered him the note then disappears as quickly as he appeared.

A successful middle-aged Manhattan banking executive, Arthur Hamilton is picked up by his wife Emily when his train stops at the Scarsdale depot. On the drive home, they have little to say to say to one another aside from the banal "How was your day?". The fiftysomething Hamiltons have endured empty nest syndrome ever since their adult daughter married and moved to the West Coast. Residing in a two-story home in an affluent and conservative neighborhood, their marriage ~and sex life~ has lacked spark for a considerable time. Adding to their marital doldrums is Arthur's midlife crisis; he may be well off financially, but his existence has been cruising on autopilot, silently frustrated over the inertia his life has become.

Sitting alone in his study after dinner, Arthur receives a phone call from an old college buddy....who was supposed to have died a few years ago!! Despite the caller's unfamiliar voice, the person on the other end of the telephone discloses just enough personal details ~that only the two of them would know~ to convince Arthur he's on the level. After being instructed to be at the address given to him at Grand Central, Hamilton is shuttled around (for security precautions) before arriving inside a strange building in downtown New York.

Uncertain as to why he was brought there, Arthur is escorted to the office of a Mr Ruby. Employed as a salesman for a firm simply known as the Company, Ruby pitches to Hamilton a secret, too-good-to-be-true proposal intended for similarly jaded wealthy clientele. He is offered an alternative lifestyle as what's known as a "reborn", complete with a brand new identity and a brand new profession of his choosing....but there's a caveat!! Arthur will be forced to disassociate himself from his past, and that includes family and friends, the latter of which he seems to have few of anyway. For the then-large fee of $30,000, Hamilton's death can be faked, with another corpse taking his place at the morgue, followed by extensive reconstructive surgery to transform him from a balding, paunchy Gloomy Gus into the tall, dark and handsome Rock Hudson.

Now christened Antiochus "Tony" Wilson, our protagonist moves out to California to fulfill his dream of becoming an artist. Residing at a Malibu beach house, he's provided with a butler/chauffeur courtesy of the Company to assist him during the difficult transition. An amateur painter, Tony dabs, strokes and brushes canvas after canvas to express his creativity, yet remains as emotionally undemonstrative as he was in his previous life.

That is....until he meets Nora, a free-spirited bohemian neighbor who draws Tony out of his introverted shell, especially after they strip naked and partake in a Dionysian grape stomping orgy that serves as a metaphor for the sexual one. Now liberated from his inhibitions, Tony feels psychologically free to walk on the wild side. Unfortunately his tongue is loosened ~courtesy of some liquid courage~ at a cocktail party that, from this moment on, will place him under the watchful eyes of the now-disapproving Company.

The pace slackens somewhat in SECONDS' third act, at least compared to the vividness of the first two, but I suspect this was a deliberate move on Frankenheimer's part. The slowing of the film's tempo is meant to mirror the stagnancy of Arthur's new life as Tony Wilson, as he realizes that material gain doesn't change the person he was on the inside. Having been an introverted individual his entire life, Hamilton/Wilson finds himself unsure of his future, now that the Andrew Wyeth-cum-Hugh Hefner lifestyle he envisioned is never going to take shape.

Thanks to the immeasurable aid of cinematographer James Wong Howe, Frankenheimer synthesizes some disturbing black & white imagery, a touch of it claustrophobic....when it isn't downright haunting. The scenes delineating our hero's physical disorientation ~when he's been drugged~ is masterfully handled, with its near-convex visuals giving the viewer a feeling of sensory overload. As for SECONDS' much talked about coda, the word "horrifying" is the first adjective that springs to mind. You may have a difficult time shaking off what you've seen long after the picture has concluded.

SECONDS was one of Hudson's rare black & white movies, and that may have been one of the reasons ~plus the film's downbeat nature~ that his loyal fanbase rejected it. Nonetheless, he delivered what many people feel was the finest performance of his career, despite his not appearing until half an hour into the picture. Hudson put his trust in Frankenheimer, and the director didn't let him down. However, two other portrayals in SECONDS should also be noted as well, both performed by actors formerly blacklisted during the McCarthy era. John Randolph, as Arthur, astutely captures his character's quiet desperation, while Will Geer ~later to become Grandpa Walton~ reveals himself to be quite chilling as the Company's founder, an old man whose folksy demeanor masks a sinister undercurrent.

Interesting, yet unsettling, tidbit: the Malibu beach house where Wilson begins his new life actually belonged to Frankenheimer. Two years later, that bungalow was where presidential candidate Bobby Kennedy spent the last day of his life prior to his assassination at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. That tragedy only gives SECONDS an added foreboding.🔚

Bullitt (1968)

One Bullitt that can't be Dodged.

[9/10 · 10 March 2024]

One of the most seminal roles in the career of Steve McQueen came in 1968 as the titular cop in Peter Yates' BULLITT. It was a moment in time that was ripe for an anti-establishment authority figure. That year was a cataclysmic twelve months of social upheaval all over the world, marred by assassinations of MLK and RFK, no end in sight to the raging conflict in Vietnam, urban riots, and the Prague Spring in Czechoslovakia. Disaffected young people everywhere were preaching "make love not war" as an antidote to the existing turmoil, and the great rock stars of the day set the tone by giving us some of the greatest music ever recorded.

McQueen was something of a rock star himself, except that he couldn't perform a song to save his life. Rather, it was his rebellious persona, both on and off the screen, that made him an iconoclast of the 1960's, thumbing his nose at authority figures and living by his own rules, status quo be damned! In his private life McQueen was known for his excess, from boozing to pot smoking to racecars and motorbikes to partying hearty at the Playboy Mansion, all of which is where the rock star analogy comes in. However, it was BULLITT that afforded McQueen the opportunity to indulge in his need for speed on the silver screen.

BULLITT was based on a detective novel called "Mute Witness", but before principal photography was to commence there would be two notable deviations from the book: (a) the protagonist's name and (b) the locale from New York to San Francisco. BULLITT was jointly made by Warner Bros and McQueen's Solar Productions, with Philip D'Antoni producing and direction by Peter Yates. McQueen and D'Antoni were particularly impressed by Yates' handling of a car chase stunt in the English heist picture ROBBERY. For BULLITT, what they had Yates in mind for was a sequence that would revolutionize the action subgenre forever.

Basing his character on real-life Frisco detective Dave Toschi (later famous s an investigator into the Zodiac killings), McQueen's most important preparation was for the carefully choreographed auto chase. Working closely with stunt driver Bill Hickman, the two of them rehearsed together putting the pedal to the metal at a speedway to familiarize themselves with each other's idiosyncrasies behind the wheel. They were determined to leave nothing to chance when the cameras rolled.

For this high-speed pursuit, everyone involved eschewed Hollywood's traditional second unit work and back projections on a soundstage, opting ~with McQueen's enthusiastic approval~ to the entire sequence on location, with some cameras placed inside the cars to photograph the actors as they actually tore up and down the hilly streets of San Francisco.

It's a pleasant Friday afternoon in Frisco as a sleepy-eyed Lieutenant Frank Bullitt ~he obviously pulled an all-nighter ~ is summoned to the home of Walt Chalmers (Robert Vaughn), an ambitious special prosecutor presently hosting a cocktail party. The slick Chalmers is using his chairmanship of a Senate subcommittee on organized crime as a springboard for higher office, and he also sees association with the well-known Bullitt as another political asset. He asks Bullitt to personally protect John Ross, a Chicago mobster turned witness, from his ex-colleagues and deliver him safely to a courthouse on Monday morning.

Using a three-man team, the plan is for one cop to take turns as a bodyguard at a seedy hotel, with Bullitt's shift to commence at dawn. But sometime after midnight, Bullitt receives a telephone call from his officer claiming that two men are in the lobby asking for Ross. He tells his subordinate not to let them in, and that he'll be there in five minutes. Right after the phone is hung up the two men bust into the room, shooting both Ross and the cop guarding him. By the time Bullitt arrives, the first responders ~and a curious crowd of onlookers~ are already there. (Hmm, has anyone else wondered how all those people got to the hotel before him in what was supposed to be a five minute drive?)

The officer's bullet wounds are primarily in the leg, but Ross' injuries are life threatening. Making the hospital his temporary home, Bullitt keeps vigil over the victims as he wonders who leaked his witness's whereabouts to the shooters....especially when the would be killers used Chalmers' name to to gain entry at the hotel. Equally mystifying is why Ross would unlock the door chair before the intruders arrived, thereby letting his own shooters in.

Displeased over his star witness being hooked up on life support, Chalmers points an accusatory finger at Bullitt for the failure, whereas the lieutenant declines to indulge in any you-know-what contests. His first priority is protecting Ross since the men who shot him will likely return to finish the job. Prescient thinking, for one of them is foiled by Bullitt and an observant nurse, but who still manages to get away.

Ultimately, despite the efforts of the medical team, Ross succumbs to his injuries. But Bullitt, with the aid of his loyal subordinate Delgetti, conspires to conceal the death from his superiors out of concern that the killers will go off the grid if they discover their hit was, in fact, successful. Transferring the body to a morgue under a John Doe, Bullitt quietly investigates the dead man's movements in the 24 hours preceding his shooting, all the while evading his superiors, and especially Chalmers, who would only pester him with annoying questions such as "Where the hell is Ross?".

As far as everyone ~except for Bullitt, Delgetti, and certain hospital staff sworn to secrecy~ is concerned, Ross is still alive and secured at an undisclosed location. Meanwhile, taking to the streets in his Ford Mustang, Bullitt is watched from a distance by the killers in their Dodge Charger, following him in the hope that he will lead them to their missing target. The stage will soon be set for the famous car chase, an action sequence that will take almost ten minutes of screen time.

Aside from that magnificent chase, BULLITT was also the first motion picture to depict reasonably accurate by-the-book procedures conducted by the police, hospital, and coroner's office. Yet despite all these factors BULLITT remains, at heart, a rather routine cop film, with only the car chase to truly distinguish it. Nevertheless, it achieved the desired effect; not since BEN HUR's chariot race had a single action sequence drawn so many people to the movie theater. It also unfortunately inspired subsequent filmmakers into trying to top BULLITT by choreographing their own extremely dangerous high-speed stunts. To date, THE FRENCH CONNECTION is the only other picture that rivals BULLITT's in terms of sheer panache.

Watching BULLITT, I noticed something that had never appeared in a motion picture or television show before it. In the scene where Bullitt parallel parks his Mustang to do some grocery shopping, he got out of his vehicle and (drumroll, please)....actually locked the door!! It was an innocuous action not meant to draw attention to itself. But it's amusing to note that McQueen and Yates were so committed to achieving realism vis-à-vis the car chase and procedurals that, in depicting something as trivial as locking a car door, they ended up creating the most authentic touch of all.🔚

Gandhi (1982)

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

[10/10 · 6 March 2024]

In the nearly one hundred years of the Academy Awards, they've often been criticized for their questionable selections for the top prize ~as well as snubbing some deserving ones altogether~ and God knows I can be included among those critics. But on the rare occasion when they get excoriated for rewarding what I thought was the right call, then I'll have their backs. One such case occurred for the 1982 Oscars when GANDHI was given Hollywood's Holy Grail over the beloved E. T. THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL, and in the decades since, anyone armed with a blog has decried that choice. Now, perhaps this is the history buff in me that's talking, but I actually thought GANDHI was the better film....not that I had anything against E. T.

For decades actor Richard Attenborough was obsessed with bringing the story of Mohandas Gandhi to the screen. He was so commited to this passion project that he occasionally accepted offers for movies he didn't particularly care for, just to build up his financial capital. As far back as the early 1960's Attenborough was able to secure the blessing and co-operation of the Indian government by personally consulting with Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira Gandhi (no relation). Although they promised to provide partial funding, that wasn't enough to sway reluctant movie executives in the West. Furthermore, by 1969 Attenborough began to shift his talents from acting to directing in order to gain more experience behind the camera.

When the Eighties arrived, after making a deal with the newly formed British film company called Goldcrest, Attenborough's long cherished dream was about to come to fruition. With the financing now anchored and a screenplay written by John Briley, his next order of business was casting. By that time, Attenborough was now Sir Richard Attenborough, and ttherefore had no trouble convincing most of his colleagues in British film and stage to perform in supporting roles, friends such as John Mills, John Gielgud, Trevor Howard, Edward Fox, and Nigel Hawthorne. There's even a small blink-and-you'll-miss-him cameo for an unknown young actor who would become a thespian powerhouse: Daniel Day Lewis. And to make sure American audiences didn't feel alienated, there were parts for Martin Sheen and Candice Bergen. But the most pressing concern for Attenborough was: who could play the title character?

In 1982, Ben Kingsley was just as unknown to movie fans as Daniel Day Lewis. Born Krishna Pandit Bhanji to an Indian father and an English mother, Kingsley began acting on stage in Shakespeare productions and on television throughout the Sixties and Seventies before being brought to Attenborough's attention. Once he was cast as the Mahatma, Kingsley began preparing for the role by losing weight, practicing yoga, mastering how to spin thread (Gandhi preferred to weave his own clothing), and studying endless newsreel footage of his subject to accurately capture the man's cadences.

Just like in David Lean's LAWRENCE OF ARABIA, Attenborough starts GANDHI off with his protagonist's death in 1948 when the Mahatma is assassinated in his prayer garden by a Hindu fanatic. Gandhi had already been in declining health and probably would've died of natural causes that year anyway, but extremists are not known for rational thinking, so the killer's action only ending martyring his victim. The largest funeral procession in India's history ensues in the streets of New Delhi, with grief stricken Indians and world dignitaries among the mourners. It was a scene which Attenborough accomplished using extras numbering close to half a million people, not with matte paintings nor special effects, and certainly not with Cgi (obviously).

The movie then goes back in time to 1893 South Africa where Mohandas K Gandhi, a young attorney admitted into the London bar, is traveling by train in the first-class section on his way to represent a client in Pretoria. The narrow-minded officials onboard order him to the rear of the locomotive where all the non-whites belong. Adamantly refusing, he is literally thrown off at the next stop, and that action gives birth to a nonviolent resistance movement that changed the course of his home country's history.

Gandhi's main grievance is South Africa's racist policy which states that non-white expats must have at all times on their person an identification pass, whereas white people are not required to carry any whatsoever. This applies to all Indians living in South Africa, whether they be Hindu or Muslim, rich or poor. To emphasize his desire in changing this edict, Gandhi stages a public gathering of similarly unnaturalized citizens, declaring that they are all members of the British Empire, and, therefore, are legally entitled to the same treatment conferred upon white British subjects. Calling further attention to his cause, Gandhi deliberately incinerates these documents in front of the Afrikaner police. It will be the first of his many arrests for civil disobedience.

The following year, Gandhi is a co-founder of the Natal Indian Congress, a political organization designated to fight discrimination. His crusades against the South African government has attracted attention not just from London, but around the world. A lifelong friend arrives in the form of Charlie Andrews, an Anglican missionary who became one of England's strongest advocates for India's self-rule. Another is fictional New York Times reporter Walker (Sheen), a composite character who, like Dorian Gray, miraculously never seems to age within a fifty-five year period. (We all wish we knew his secret.)😁

By 1915, the second year of World War One, Gandhi has succeeded in winning partial recognition for Indian residents after numerous arrests and incarcerations. His reputation has now preceded him in his home land as nervous British officials anticipate his return. True to his nature, Gandhi continues to preach and practice nonviolent resistance, telling his colleagues that when the British leave India, it should be as friends, not enemies. He also undertakes a train journey all across the subcontinent, where he witnesses widespread poverty, something he'd been sheltered from when growing up.

But even Gandhi's message of racial and religious harmony is unable to prevent the appalling Amritsar massacre where peaceful protesters were gunned down in the hundreds ~possibly over a thousand~ by the British Indian soldiers under the command of Brigadier General Dyer. It was an action that horrified the Commonwealth, but not enough to convince them to surrender their jewel in the crown.

In the span of the next quarter century, viceroys come and viceroys go, but Gandhi and his countrymen remain defiant in their pursuit of independence; by the 1930's even British people back home are in favor of returning India to the Indians. Gandhi continues to apply pressure against Britain with his highly publicized Salt March, enduring house arrest as His Majesty's government slowly realize they can't afford their jewel much longer. But the one thing Gandhi doesn't count on is the age-old hatreds between Hindus and Muslims, an animosity that explodes into violence when the country is partitioned after finally winning self-rule.

Released at the end of 1982 GANDHI was one of the last of the old-style sweeping epics constructed in the spirit of George Stevens and William Wyler. This was before Hollywood's baby boomers ruined the party with high-octane blockbusters and vapid sequels (or both). The adjective many reviewers have used to describe Attenborough's labor of love is "stately", and I see no reason to feel differently. His team treat the production ~and the Mahatma himself~ with the appropriate reverence, yet are unafraid to rap the knuckles of India's elite for their condescending treatment of lower caste untouchables.

Kingsley's tour de force as the Mahatma is nothing short of extraordinary. Throughout GANDHI's three hour running time, his performance seldom resorts to actorly histrionics, as he modestly anchors the picture ~in keeping with the man he portrays~ and subsequently dominates the awards season, as did the film. Being the new kid in Oscar town, King's found himself competing against, and triumphing over, four acting heavyweights: Paul Newman, Jack Lemmon, Dustin Hoffman, and Peter O'Toole. Yet his victory may have been a newer chapter in the so-called "Oscar curse". If it was, it didn't remain that way. Kingsley continued his stage work for the remainder of the Eighties before returning to the screen for good with BUGSY, SNEAKERS, and especially SCHINDLER'S LIST.

Although Kingsley received well-deserved plaudits for bringing the Mahatma to life, it was Attenborough who truly reaped the benefits of GANDHI's success. And why not? Attenborough lobbied long and hard, scrimped and saved, and made the biggest gamble of his life. And now that success was paying off with critics and audiences alike. GANDHI gained plenty of momentum leading into awards season, as the movie collected top honors from Bafta, the New York Film Critics Circle, the Golden Globes, and the National Board of Review. As for the Oscars, GANDHI snapped up eight statuettes: Picture, Director, Actor, Original Screenplay, Cinematography, Art Direction, Editing, and Costume Design.

As a result of GANDHI, Attenborough also received an honor totally unrelated to the film industry. He was awarded the 1983 Martin Luther King Jr Nonviolent Peace Prize, presented to him in Atlanta bt the slain leader's widow. Seeing as King's message of peaceful disobedience and racial harmony was inspired by the teachings of Mohandas K Gandhi, Attenborough's victory could be seen as a full circle moment. 🔚

Charade (1963)

Last tangle in Paris.

[10/10 · 2 March 2024]

Stanley Donen's CHARADE is often referred to as the greatest Alfred Hitchcock movie that Hitchcock never made. It's a thoroughly understandable mistake. CHARADE has all the ingredients one normally associates with the Master: a tongue in cheek approach to a witty script that shows off glamorous locations with two stars that shine magically, the luminaries in this case being Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. If there's one quality where CHARADE differs from Hitch, it's that there's a darker tone, both aesthetically and visually. Otherwise it would be difficult to spot the contrast.

CHARADE was not originally tailored for either Grant or Hepburn. Peter Stone and another screenwriter had written it years earlier under another title that Hollywood took a pass on. So Stone decided to rewrite it as a novel, which was published in serialized form in the popular women's magazine Redbook. For some reason his story in this format finally piqued Tinseltown's curiosity and, ironically,was noticed by the same executives who turned down his script. But it wasn't until when Stanley Donen purchased the rights to Stone's property that CHARADE had an excellent chance of being made into a picture.

Donen's career began in musical theatre as a dancer and choreographer prior to heading for Hollywood after signing a contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer....and this was when he was still in his early twenties. His talent for staging complex dance arrangements caught the eye of Gene Kelly, who'd always desired to become a director himself in addition to being a movie star. Kelly decided to collaborate with the young upstart behind the camera, first with ON THE TOWN and then SINGIN' IN THE RAIN. Throughout the 1950's, Donen became a noted filmmaker in his own right, bringing his personal light touch to the musicals and comedies of the era.

By 1960, Donen had relocated to Europe, where he would remain for almost a decade. The screenplay for CHARADE reminded him of Hitchcock's NORTH BY NORTHWEST, a film he adored, and upon acquiring it he asked Stone to tailor the script for Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn, two stars whom he'd already worked with but had yet to appear opposite one another. Grant had declined the opportunity to co-star with the then-unknown Hepburn on 1953's ROMAN HOLIDAY ~in the part that went to Gregory Peck~ for reasons that were never made clear. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, Grant accepted Donen's offer. (The added inducement of working on location in Paris was probably another factor).

CHARADE opens in rural France with a dead body being tossed from a speeding train, follow by a snazzy animated credits sequence created by Maurice Binder, a title card designer famous for the James Bond movies and second only in his profession to Saul Bass. As soon as the words "directed by Stanley Donen" dissolve from the screen, the drama shifts to the French Alps, where Regina "Reggie" Lampert, a translator working for Euresco, is holidaying with her friend and co-worker Sylvie. Reggie confides in Sylvie of her plans to divorce husband Charles, citing her frustration over his secrecy and lies. By chance, she encounters Peter Joshua, a debonair expatriate played by Cary Grant (who else?😁). Enjoying her last day of vacation, Reggie partakes in some witty repartee with the perfect stranger prior to returning to Paris.

Arriving at her apartment, Reggie is greeted to an empty flat stripped completely bare of everything she and her husband ever had....oh, and a police detective is also there to greet her!! It turns out that the homicide victim we witnessed earlier from the train was that of Charles Lampert. After making a formal identification, Reggie is given more shocking news! Prior to being bumped off Charles emptied out their bank account and auctioned off all of their possessions, with plans to leave the country for South America. If all those revelations weren't numbing enough for Reggie, the only thing found in his train compartment was a small travel bag whose contents included four different passports under four different aliases!

Now forced to vacate her residence without so much as a franc to her name, an emotionally drained Reggie is comforted by a visit from the mysterious Peter Joshua, who claims to have read about the killing in the afternoon papers. Being the debonair gentleman that he is, Peter offers to help her register in at a hotel that's a considerable downgrade from what she's accustomed to....but not exactly a fleabag either.

Her late husband's subterfuge becomes more and more apparent to Reggie the next day at his funeral. The only ones in attendance are her, Sylvie, and the investigating detective. (I wonder why didn't Peter show up to pay his respects?) Then, suddenly, three sinister looking men enter, one at a time. The first is Leopold Gideon, whose slight bespectacled frame is compatible with that of a desk clerk rather than someone mixed up in murder. The second arrival is Tex Penthollow (James Coburn), a well-tailored good ol' boy ~but without the stereotypical Stetson or bolo tie. The third is Herman Scobie (George Kennedy), the most menacing of the trio, bearing a steel hand in lieu of the one he lost during the war.

After the service has concluded Reggie is summoned to the American Embassy by an intelligence bureaucrat named Hamilton Bartholomew (Walter Matthau). Following some witty small talk, he reveals to her that Charles, the three men at the funeral, and another man now deceased were all espionage operatives who'd stolen $250,000 in gold from Uncle Sam in 1944. Reggie further learns that Charles double crossed his partners-in-crime and fled with the ill-gotten gains, which would certainly explain his murder. But the missing money has never been found, and the three surviving crooks can only that she has the quarter of a million squirreled away somewhere....and they'll stop at nothing to reclaim it!!

By this point Peter Joshua has re-entered Reggie's life, entertaining her to a much-needed night on the town. But Gideon, Tex, and Scobie are not too far behind them; in fact, the three stooges are also registered at the same hotel as Reggie and Peter. However, her romantic feelings towards her new suitor change to suspicion when she discovers that his name isn't Peter Joshua at all....and that he's looking for the money too!! But who is he really? How does he fit into this mystery? What is his stake in it? And most importantly, could he have been the person who actually murdered Charles Lampert?

Aside from the two stars, another major factor into why CHARADE works so well is due in no small part to the score by legendary composer Henry Mancini. He and Audrey Hepburn will always be intrinsically linked as a result of "Moon River " from BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S. Although CHARADE's title song ~from in the floating restaurant scene on the Seine~ isn't as good, Mancini's melodic gifts astutely capture all the romantic (and romanticized) connotations normally associated with Paris. He also knows how to ratchet up the tension during CHARADE's suspenseful sequences.

Hepburn is thoroughly winning as the heroine unsure of who is really on her side and who's just exploiting her charming nature to get what they want. She has great chemistry with Grant despite his being twenty-five years older than her. Interestingly, because Grant was concerned his character may come across as a licentious old man, screenwriter Stone cleverly tailored the script to create the impression that Hepburn's Reggie was seducing him instead....and it works!!!

Currently rated with a 94% approval on Rotten Tomatoes ~I feel so sorry for those curmudgeons on the 6%~ CHARADE was accurately described by one critic as a cross between a 1930's screwball comedy and NORTH BY NORTHWEST. In addition to its romantic comedy asides, halfway through the picture there's an interesting nod to AND THEN THERE WERE NONE, which anyone familiar with Agatha Christie's classic mystery will understand straight away.

Somehow, CHARADE has now entered in the public domain, in spite of it being sixty years old. Normally, most films would have to reach the century mark to qualify, yet Universal allowed the copyright to expire, meaning it's available for free on any streaming service. Smartly written, directed, and performed, CHARADE is the perfect movie for couples to watch when they're in the mood. 🔚

Pandora's Box (1929)

A Lulu of a morality tale.

[10/10 · 29 February 2024]

From baby boomers to millennials, the name of Louise Brooks is only likely to strike a chord with them thanks to a line spoken by Montgomery Burns on The Simpsons. "Profit margins will be thinner than Louise Brooks' negligée". But back in the silent film era this girl with the black bob haircut was the personification of the carefree Twenties flapper, more so than Clara Bow. Whenever Brooks appeared on the screen she exuded the power of raw female sexuality. That persona of hers was highly influential, the look later paid homage to by the likes of Cyd Charisse (SINGIN' IN THE RAIN), Melanie Griffith (SOMETHING WILD), and Liza Minnelli (CABARET), to name a few. It's not a stretch of the imagination to assume that Shirley MacLaine's short hair was also inspired by Brooks.

Yet there was more to Brooks than just a mere fashion icon. Strongly independent and uninhibited, she was the Erin Brockovich of her day, living by her specific set of rules and doing whatever she damn well pleased as long as it was on her own time. As far as Brooks was concerned, contractual morals clauses were a waste of time; this was the Roaring Twenties after all, and everyone was having a high ol' time flaunting the unpopular Prohibition law of the land....and she was no exception!

Brooks also refused to be taken advantage of by producers and directors, bruising their egos and putting her foot down over such issues as money and safety concerns on the movie set. In an era when women were slowly starting to assert their identities, the male power brokers in Hollywood found Brooks too much for them to handle. Having said that, it was on the other side of the Atlantic where her legend would really begin.

Within the German film industry of the 1920's, G. W. Pabst was a ladder rung (or two) below that of contemporaries Fritz Lang, F. W. Murnau, and Ernst Lubitsch. Nevertheless he remained a visionary, first working his way up as an assistant director with a remarkable knack for scouting young European actresses such as Greta Garbo. By 1929, Pabst's passion project was PANDORA'S BOX, a film that was based on two different plays condensed into one story. For the lead role of Lulu, he had the pick of any actress in Germany he wanted, but Pabst could only see the American Louise Brooks in the part. But landing her seemed a flight of fancy when, all of a sudden, Brooks was unexpectedly available after being dismissed from Paramount following a salary dispute.

There's a legend that Pabst was inside his office in the process of signing a German actress for the part of Lulu when, unanticipatedly, he was informed of Brooks' availability. Upon realizing that his original choice was now accessible, Pabst immediately cast Brooks as Lulu before she had even begun to set sail across the ocean. And who, you may ask, was that woman who missed out? Oh, just someone named Marlene Dietrich! Although Brooks and Pabst hit it off right away, she had trouble winning over her co-stars, who were resentful over an American portraying a character they felt should rightfully be performed by a German actress.

In PANDORA'S BOX, Lulu is a free spirited young woman, a one-time showgirl ~and possibly an ex-lady of the evening~ currently residing in a penthouse suite provided by her sugar daddy, a newspaper publisher named Ludwig Schön. Although he has a grown-up son, Alwa, it's never explained whether the unmarried Schön père was widowed or divorced. Lulu's benefactor is not present when she's paid a visit by another older gentleman, Schilgoch, a friend and father figure she hasn't see since her dancing days, but their relationship is more like that between a pimp and his favorite "employee". Delighted to see that she's still got the moves, Schilgoch tries to persuade Lulu to return to the variety revue.

The reunion is cut short when a forlorn Schön arrives at the apartment unexpectedly. After Lulu quickly conceals her guest out on the terrace, Schön regretfully informs her that he's engaged to the daughter of an influential politician: a soon-to-be marriage of convenience. His despondency is soon replaced with disgust when he spots Schilgoch on the balcony. Assuming that Lulu has been playing around on him, Schön storms out of the suite in anger. Suspecting that her meal ticket will be cut off, she accepts Schilgoch's introduction to Rodrigo Quast, a circus performer who is looking for a girl like her to appear in his next act.

Schön's attempt to distance Lulu from his life is not going to be easy because of her close friendship with his son Alwa, and it's inevitable that the exes will cross paths again at some point. That unplanned get-together occurs one evening when Schön, with betrothed in tow, attends a musical production being staged by his impresario son. Unaware that Lulu has been cast in Alwa's revue, he brings his bride-to-be backstage and, as you might guess, the fur starts flying! Upset over seeing them ~especially the fiancée~ Lulu has a breakdown and threatens not to go on with the show. Seeking to diffuse the tension, Alwa persuades his father to intervene.

Sequestered with Lulu in a dressing room, Schön attempts to calm her down, but his endeavors prove to be too effective, with the two of them locked in an embrace at the precise moment the other woman enters the quarters. Assuming that the two former flames have rekindled the relationship, she walks away dejected, the bride-to-be now becoming the bride-not-to-be. With her rival newly out of the picture, Lulu manipulates her way into Schön Senior's marriage bed. But their honeymoon will never get off the ground!

Among the wedding guests is Countess Augusta, another female Bff of Alwa's....and cinema's first lesbian character, with more than a passing interest in our anti-heroine. The countess manages to cut in when Lulu is on the dance floor, raising not as many eyebrows as you would think. But Schön is too preoccupied to notice. What's been infuriating him is his new wife's infatuated attention towards attendees Schilgoch and Rodrigo. He creates a scene by threatening to shoot them both before Lulu intervenes. Once the reception has awkwardly dispersed, the bride and groom continue with their disagreement, which culminates in his accidental, and fatal, shooting.

Now on trial for her husband's murder, Lulu plays the part of the grieving widow to the hilt, all dressed up in black throughout the proceedings. The prosecutor melodramatically paints her as a modern-day Pandora unleashing the evils upon the world while she tries throwing off his concentration with subtly seductive glances. Among those loyal friends offering support in the gallery are Alwa, Schilgoch, Rodrigo, and the countess. Lulu is found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to only five years in prison, but her colleagues ensure that she doesn't spend a day up the river by setting off the courthouse fire alarm and freeing her during the confusion. Now a fugitive, Lulu finds herself no longer the exploiter but the exploited, as the pimps and parasites use blackmail to capitalize on her notoriety.

Brilliantly making use of expressionistic shadows, PANDORA'S BOX nonetheless turned out to be an example of great moments in bad timing, with talking pictures here to stay and a stock market about to crash. Critics were just as indifferent as audiences were in 1929, but in all fairness, that was largely due to the mutilating hand of the censors. Unsurprisingly, all of the lesbian inferences involving the countess were removed, as was the original ending pertaining to Jack the Ripper; instead of her interspersion with the infamous murderer, Lulu winds up enlisting in the Salvation Army. Unaware that they were gazing at a motion picture classic consequent to its disembowelment, no wonder the public turned their noses at PANDORA'S BOX.

But time, as they say, heals all wounds. By the 1950's the original cut for PANDORA'S BOX found itself rediscovered by film scholars, who were able to appreciate what 1929 audiences were unable to. Over the decades, a new generation of critics such as Roger Ebert and Pauline Kael championed PANDORA'S BOX as a landmark in German Expressionism worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as METROPOLIS and THE LAST LAUGH. Quentin Tarantino revealed that it's one of his top ten favorite pictures, and it shouldn't come as a surprise. Pabst's name is brought up by his sniper/cinephile in that war movie set in Occupied France.

Although Louise Brooks' post-career days took a life-imitates-art trajectory, her reputation was restored along with PANDORA'S BOX. Contemporary film historians now her as important as Garbo and Dietrich. From the 1960's to her death in 1985 she continued to speak reverently about the film and her collaboration with Pabst, and wrote essays about the cinema itself. In a perfect world the Academy Awards would have named Brooks the Best Actress of 1929 instead of Mary Pickford, or at least nominated her as such. Unfortunately, in real life, as the Rolling Stones pointed out, you can't always get what you want. 🔚

The Crowd (1928)

Two ships stuck at sea.

[10/10 · 15 February 2024]

From every corner of the world over the course of a century, motion pictures ~especially low budget indies~ have showered us with melodramas about simple, ordinary people against all odds facing the challenges and vicissitudes of their simple, ordinary lives. In the aftermath of the Second World War, the Italians launched their highly influential neo-realist movement with films such as BICYCLE THIEVES and OPEN CITY representing the high point of the genre. By the late Fifties, the French New Wave and Britain's kitchen sink dramas followed suit with their own trend featuring fallible working class anti-heroes.

As for Hollywood, Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Paul Newman typified a newer cross section of rank and file characters who lacked the need to be likeable, as opposed to their predecessors Jimmy Stewart and Clark Gable. These were spiritually conflicted individuals, often alienated (EAST OF EDEN), or arrogantly narcissistic (HUD), or misogynistically cruel (A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE)....but nonetheless genuine!! However, when it comes to movies about normal people struggling to rise above their humdrum existence, it's pretty hard to find a drama that's more downbeat ~and yet incredibly moving~ than King Vidor's silent masterpiece from 1928: THE CROWD.

Thanks to the spectacular success of his war picture THE BIG PARADE three years earlier, Vidor had the clout with Metro Goldwyn Mayer to take a chance on a risky personal project that was more destined to end up in the red than the black. Vidor wanted to shoot a stark, realistic drama completely on location in New York without any Hollywood artifice attached to it....and preferably with a cast of no-name actors so that audiences would have no preconceived ideas about the characters beforehand. Irving Thalberg, the wunderkind who green lit THE BIG PARADE, trusted Vidor's instincts and gave him the go-ahead to proceed over the vociferous objections of Louis B Mayer.

To play the wife Mary, Vidor chose his own significant other, actress Eleanor Boardman, who was under contract to Metro Goldwyn Mayer. As for the protagonist John Sims, the director selected James Murray, an actor whose previous screen work consisted mainly of parts rising seldom higher than that of a walk-on extra. According to legend, Vidor casually spotted Murray walking across the studio lot and thought he had the suitable looks and body language required for the lead role.

THE CROWD's ambitious hero is Johnny Sims, born symbolically enough on the Fourth of July in 1900, the ideal (and idealistic) all-American baby representing a new, uncertain century. Raised in an unnamed small town ~presumably somewhere in upstate New York~ the lad enjoys the innocent pastoral life of playing with his childhood friends, one of whom is an African American boy, a rarity in cinema at that time. Kudos to Vidor for showing us integration decades before Brown v Board of Education.

The group of chums sit on a fence rhapsodizing over what they want to be when they grow up. Convinced of his own greatness, Johnny isn't sure what profession he wants for a career, but tells them whatever it is he's going to be a big man someday, an optimism instilled in him by his father. John's adolescence gets a rude reality check when his dad dies unexpectedly, leaving him fatherless at the age of 12.

Fading to a blackout, Vidor opens the next scene on a New York ferry, where a 21-year old John Sims gazes in wonder at a Big Apple skyline that parades tall buildings towering over the smaller ones, excited about the prospect of making his mark on the world. This is the beginning of the Roaring Twenties, a time of the Jazz Age and unprecedented economic growth across the United States in the aftermath of World War One. Everybody seems to be riding high off the good vibrations, and John eagerly covets his slice of the American Dream. Studying for a night course, he nevertheless is aware that no one is going to hand him the keys to the executive suite, that he'll have to work his way up the corporate ladder before, in his own words, his ship comes in.

To illustrate 1920's prosperity, Vidor calls attention to various aerial shots of the sprawling metropolis and everything it offers. He also utilizes hidden cameras on the ground to surreptitiously record the populace conducting themselves in their natural settings. Throwing in some interesting model work, Vidor's impressive zoom-in shot hones in on John Sims, employed as a clerk in a large multi-leveled insurance firm (probably the inspiration for the one in Billy Wilder's THE APARTMENT). That floor alone must accommodate two hundred desks with employees seated behind them toiling away on tedious paperwork. Johnny is the C. C. Baxter of THE CROWD, and one day his co-worker Bert asks him to tag along on a double date.

Initially resistant, Sims agrees to accompany him to meet Bert's girlfriend and her bestie, and that's when he's first introduced to Mary. Always believing that he was destined to rise above the rest of the hoi polloi, Johnny nearly sabotages any chance of romance with Mary by putting his foot in his mouth with a condescending crack about the working class. Luckily for him, she ignores his remark, and all four enjoy a wonderful day at Coney Island. On the ride home, Johnny and a fatigued Mary sit together, her eyes closed with her head resting on his shoulder. Having fallen head over heels in love, he proposes marriage, to which she accepts.

Following their nuptials, John and Mary climb onto a train bound for Niagara Falls to begin their honeymoon. Upon returning to New York he resumes his low-level at the insurance firm and she....actually, I don't think her profession is ever mentioned. As the months go on, it's not just the honeymoon that's over but also the honeymoon phase, as their constant bickering over money ~and his failure to land a promotion~ threaten to put a strain on their union. Johnny's disdainful in-laws, who disapproved of him from the start, don't make things any easier.

The rocky marriage is salvaged when Mary gives birth to a son, with a daughter to soon follow. In due course Johnny secures a raise from his boss, and even wins $500 for composing an advertising slogan. Easy Street seems within range for the Sims family....but then tragedy strikes when their little girl is struck down in traffic. Inconsolable in his grief, John takes the loss much harder than Mary, and it ultimately affects his job performance, making it unlikely that his proverbial ship will ever come in.

In the late 1920's the Academy Awards were a developing institution, but even in their infancy their members could make some truly head-scratching omissions counterbalanced by some inspired recognitions....just like they do today. This only nominations THE CROWD reveived were for Best Director and the one-time only category of Unique and Artistic Production, the latter of which went (deservedly) to SUNRISE. Had the Oscars been as competitive then as they soon would be, then the two leads would've certainly garnered acting nods. In THE CROWD, Eleanor Boardman somehow manages to pull off the impressive feat of giving an emotionally raw portrayal of the plain looking Mary while, at the same time, emitting a captivating glow to her face....all without any makeup application.

As for James Murray, there's no question he was absolutely robbed of a nomination. In what would be the role of a lifetime, Murray infuses Johnny with a childlike optimism that descends from self-assuredness to melancholy as he realizes his dreams may never be fulfilled. In spite of John's occasionally clumsy behavior, we can identify with his good qualities and also empathize with him and Mary as the brass ring slips further away from their grasp. Murray not only should have been nominated for an Oscar, he should've won it too; it might have added years to his life. Sadly imitating art, Murray's alcoholism sidelined a promising career, further compounded by the Great Depression and the arrival of talkies. He died seven years after THE CROWD from drowning.

I always held hope that THE CROWD would someday find its way onto Dvd, as Vidor's other silent classic THE BIG PARADE did in 2013. A decade has currently passed and I've since given up on that pipe dream....but there's a silver lining! THE CROWD has entered public domain, which means that its copyright has now expired. It can already be found on YouTube, and thanks to streaming services the movie might soon be available on Tubi. Whichever site you select, make THE CROWD one of your next choices, and prepare to be moved! 🔚

Dunkirk (2017)

Nolan's finest hour....so far!

[10/10 · 9 February 2024]

Of all the Generation X filmmakers to establish their reputations since the dawn of the 21st century, Christopher Nolan was easily the most visionary of them. After first making his name with the time-altering, mind-blowing MEMENTO, Nolan then did INSOMNIA, a pretty good remake of a Scandinavian thriller, followed by his celebrated Dark Knight trilogy and INCEPTION. As well-received and innovative as those pictures all were, Hollywood's Academy was very slow in recognizing Nolan's greatness as a director, occasionally nominating him only in the screenplay category. But after 2017's DUNKIRK, they finally clued in on the fact that they could no longer continue to bypass him.

Nolan's take on the Dunkirk evacuation wasn't the first to land on the big screen, on account of a 1958 British version starring John Mills. The director had long been interested in doing his own interpretation as far back as the mid-Nineties before he'd ever begun making films. Knowing that a big Hollywood budget would be needed to carry his reenactment faithfully and to the letter, Nolan delayed the project until after The Dark Knight trilogy was completed. The spectacular success of those three Batman movies (and the experience of handling blockbusters) gave him the collateral to wield that budget.

Because the real Dunkirk operation did not have any contribution from the U. S. ~they were still neutral in 1940~ Nolan, to his great credit, insisted that no American characters be frivolously added to the drama for the purpose of bolstering marquee value. Had a hack like Michael Bay been handed the reins, DUNKIRK would have looked absolutely awful. Bay would've tacked on some facile love triangle between two Allied servicemen (one of whom would be a Yank) and a French woman whom they're forced to leave behind at Dunkirk, but then the Yank is saddled with guilt and sails back to France and rescues her and escorts her to the safety of England, all the while as Bay stages superfluous explosions just for the sake of blowing stuff up. Nolan is not that type of filmmaker; pandering to the popcorn crowd is not part of his métier.

Warner Bros, who had been enjoying a very profitable relationship with Nolan and confident he'd deliver on the goods, agreed to his terms without any hesitation. To prove he wasn't going to be self-indulgent with the blank cheque, Nolan consented to a lower salary upfront in exchange for a larger percentage of the box office profits. While his team were scouting around for suitable locations, Nolan and historian Joshua Levine interviewed surviving veterans of Dunkirk to get an accurate picture of the chaos and terror they would be required to recreate.

By this juncture, Nolan's fans were already accustomed to the thematic distortion of time so prevalent in his narratives, but with DUNKIRK he takes it a few steps further. Not only is the story told from three different points of view, but also three separate time frames: (a) the Mole, (b) the sea , and (c) the air. The Mole is the name given to Dunkirk's elongated pier that's been under attack from the Luftwaffe, and its story is presented over the course of one fateful week. Nolan's sea segments represent a full day, while those depicted in the air portray a hour in which Britain's Spitfires are engaged in dogfights to the death against their German counterparts.

The main protagonist, appropriately named Tommy, is a 19-year old British private who's among the many Allied troops trapped at the northern town of Dunkirk, France in May of 1940. He and his mates are patrolling a quiet street whilst propaganda leaflets rain down from above. Without warning, German sniper fire opens up on them, killing all except for Tommy, who manages to reach the beach by the skin of his teeth. The coastline is littered with stranded English and French soldiers with no place to retreat as they wait on pins and needles for His Majesty's Navy to come pick them up.

German dive bombers appear out of the sky to drop explosives onto the helpless men below. Nolan pulls off an impressive foreground shot of Tommy laying flat on the sand as the bomb detonations in the background symmetrically inch closer towards him. Desperate to embark on the ship currently docked at the Mole, he and another soldier carry a stretcher bearing a wounded infantryman as they cut their way through the lines to get a priority boarding....but to no avail!!! And as it turns out, they're extremely fortunate not to gotten onboard! Casualties mount as the Luftwaffe stray the Mole with machine gun fire while its artillery successfully sinks the medic ship Tommy was so eager to get on. (Nolan used a real vessel, not a miniaturized model.)

Meanwhile at Dorset, civilian watercrafts are requested by the Navy for action in helping spirit the grounded British and French troops away from Dunkirk. Among those answering the call is Mr Dawson (Mark Rylance), a veteran of the First World War who offers to personally navigate his own fishing boat across the Channel, with his son and the lad's best friend tagging along as his first mates. Crossing the choppy waters, they rescue a shivering soldier (Cillian Murphy) who's been sitting on the upside-down hull of a ship that was struck by the Germans. Suffering from posttraumatic stress, he develops panic attacks upon learning that Dawson and company's itinerary is Dunkirk, a place he's not anxious to return to.

Soaring through the skies is Farrier (a barely recognizable Tom Hardy behind the oxygen mask), an R. A. F flyer piloting one of three Spitfires tasked with protecting the Royal Navy destroyers and minesweepers fortunate enough to have sailed unscathed from Dunkirk....not to mention the flotilla of civilian crafts sailing to the rescue. Using his 65mm cameras inside and outside the cockpits, Nolan stages some stunning aerial footage as Farrier and his flyboys engage in life-and-death dogfights with the Luftwaffe over the Channel.

Where to begin with Nolan's direction?? Well, for starters, he masterfully edits the time frames seemingly without a single error....though it will take more than a solitary viewing to realize that. And despite being a first-rate screenwriter, Nolan consciously preferred to minimalize DUNKIRK's dialogue as much as he could. The rationale behind that decision was fairly straightforward. For the Allies overwhelmed by the chaos, any speeches about their home life or the families anxiously awaiting their return would've only have come across as contrived. Nolan left it up to his set pieces, his narrative flair, and Hans Zimmer's innovative music to propel the story forward.

DUNKIRK contains many unforgettable images, but the one that sticks out for me ~and probably to other viewers too~ wasn't the aerial spectacle nor the bombing attacks. It was a sequence of uncommon calm where a traumatized soldier has finally had enough. The young man defeatedly tosses his helmet onto the sand, and casually walks towards the surf into the oncoming waves....and continues to wade forward until completely engulfed by the water. Equally unsettling was the reaction of his comrades watching from the sidelines, too mentally and physically exhausted to do anything about it. Apparently, that was based on an actual occurrence.

By the time of DUNKIRK, Nolan regular Michael Caine was in his eighties and therefore too old to be playing a character onscreen, but the director still wanted his good luck charm to be involved in the enterprise, so he gave the veteran actor a voiceover speaking part as Hardy's Spitfire leader. Kenneth Branagh became the latest established star to join Nolan's "stock company", as Commander Bolton. Other newcomers included a young thespian named Fionn Whitehead as Tommy, while pop idol Harry Styles makes his acting debut as a Highlander soldier sporting a surly chip on his shoulder.

One of the shortest motion pictures in Nolan's filmography ~registering at barely an hour and a half~ DUNKIRK didn't win him the Oscars he was nominated for (although it took gold for Film Editing, Sound Editing, and Sound Mixing), but it did win him the admiration of his peers. Calling DUNKIRK a masterpiece, Quentin Tarantino has passionately spoken out about the movie and has referred to it as Nolan's Apex Mountain. Paul Thomas Anderson ~and fellow nominee that year~ was another who fervently sang DUNKIRK's praises, as was animator Brad Bird (THE INCREDIBLES). As for Nolan himself, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, James Cameron, Steven Soderbergh, and Francis Ford Coppola have proclaimed themselves fans of his oeuvre. And as great as DUNKIRK is, one can't escape the feeling that Nolan's best is still yet to come!🔚

Letters from Iwo Jima (2006)

A letter perfect depiction of Iwo Jima.

[10/10 · 8 February 2024]

Ever since SAVING PRIVATE RYAN rewrote the modern war movie playbook with its explicit depiction of battle, scores of subsequent blood and guts spectacles have responded by graphically upping the gore quotient, yet shortchanging us on the human element. In the ten years since PRIVATE RYAN changed cinema's combat landscape, BLACK HAWK DOWN came the closest to replicating Steven Spielberg's epic, but it was bogged down with too much post-9/11 rah-rahism for it to be emotionally involving. As for such jingoistic flag wavers as THE PATRIOT, WE WERE SOLDIERS, and PEARL HARBOR, well....they're best left unwatched and forgotten. However, during that period, only Clint Eastwood's LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA deserves to stand proudly alongside SAVING PRIVATE RYAN among the greats of war pictures.

Following Eastwood's second directorial Oscar win for MILLION DOLLAR BABY ~the first was for UNFORGIVEN~ he announced his plans to make a film about the Battle of Iwo Jima. Entitled FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS, it was a joint venture between his Malpaso company and Spielberg's DreamWorks studio. He intended to pay tribute to the American troops that fought in that bloody campaign, but as the story began to take shape Eastwood became just as interested in representing the perspective of the Japanese defenders. Rather than condense everything into one mammoth war movie, he elected to make two separate films to be shot simultaneously and released within months of each other.

FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS was to be told from the American point of view while LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA, its companion piece, focuses on the Japanese soldiers stationed on the island. It was a risky project to undertake due to the cost of overlapping pictures and because the dialogue for the latter film would be spoken almost entirely in Japanese. Eastwood couldn't speak the language so he hired Iris Yamashita, an American screenwriter of Japanese descent, to write the script based upon....you guessed, letters penned by the men garrisoned at Iwo Jima.

Because Iwo Jima was considered a heritage site, restaging the battle there would have been seen as disrespectful to the memories of those who lost their lives. Eastwood agreed to film only minor non-combat scenes on the island, with the bulk of the action shot half a world away on Iceland since its landscape of volcanic ash was similar to that of Iwo Jima. The remaining principal photography took place back in California.

By the autumn of 1944 it was clear that Imperial Japan was losing the war against the Allied Powers. In Southeast Asia the British were driving them out of Burma, while in the Pacific theater Saipan and the Marshall Islands were now on American hands. That October MacArthur was about to fulfill his promise to return to the Philippines. The island of Iwo Jima, located 750 miles from the Japanese mainland, was strategically prized for their airfields, which the Allies could use to launch aerial bombings on Tokyo and other industrial cities.

LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA begins in the present day as archeologists stumble onto artifacts dating back to the battle, including letters that never got sent home to Japanese relatives. Eastwood then flashes back to the autumn of 1944; General Kuribayashi (Ken Watanabe) is the island stronghold's new commanding officer. A career military man and occasional haiku poet, he spent many years in the United States as an attaché representing his Emperor, making him an expert on their mindset. Assigned to prepare for the Americans' inevitable invasion, Kuribayashi is an amiable, pragmatic man whose code of honor hardly fits the stereotypical profile of the fanatical Asian warrior. It's impossible to imagine him being involved in atrocities such as the Rape of Nanking or the Bataan Death March.

Kuribayashi quickly endears himself to the lower ranking infantrymen when he admonishes an abusive captain for brutally assaulting an enlisted man. The soldier in question is Private Saigo, who, in prewar life, was a baker with a wife and an unborn child on the way. Conscripted into the Army, he doesn't share his superiors' banzai attitude and looks forward to day when he's reunited with his family.

At the moment of Kuribayashi's arrival, Saigo and his fellow grunts welcome another newbie to the island, a Private Shimizu, whom they suspect is a spy working for the military police to root out unpatriotic soldiers. (Spoiler alert: he's not). Saigo's present unpleasant task is digging trenches on Iwo Jima's beaches, an undertaking made more arduous due to the dysentery he and his comrades been suffering from (on account of the volcanic island's water).

Meticulously scouting the entire island, Kuribayashi alters their defensive strategy. Rather than risking the entire Corps needlessly on the beach heads, he orders the bulk of his troops to retreat into the mountain tunnels in the hopes of holding off the Americans until Tokyo can send in reinforcements. This tactic antagonizes his ultra-nationalist subordinates who consider his plan tantamount to cowardice. One officer who's definitely on Kuribayashi's side is Colonel Nishi, an aristocrat and equestrian whose prior claim to fame was winning gold at the 1932 Olympics at Los Angeles. He's one of the few Japanese citizens who can justifiably boast about having entertained Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks!

Following preliminary air assaults on Iwo Jima, the Americans finally begin battering the island in February with the Navy's huge guns. Unlike the Germans at Normandy, the Japanese don't shower the enemy with howitzers and machine guns as they alight from the Higgins boats. Kuribayashi hesitates to issue the order to fire until enough Marines have disembarked their amphibious crafts and inch themselves closer to the concealer bunkers. Though the Japanese inflict heavy casualties, the ground troops holding the beach are soon overridden and ordered to retreat into the tunnels ~those that are still alive, that is. Within four days Mount Suribachi is captured by the Americans, but Iwo Jima's defenders refuse to call it quits.

For over a month, Kuribayashi and his troops wage a bloody standoff against the Americans. However, there is dissension among the ranks. Saigo overhears the general's voice on the radio issuing the order for surviving troops to retreat to the island's north side, but the most fanatical officers disobey and instead relay their own command to commit suicide. Despite Saigo's pleadings, almost a dozen soldiers needlessly end their lives by exploding grenades held against them. When the mass martyrdom has concluded, Saigo and Shimizu are the only ones still standing in the cave's chamber, shocked over the sight of former brothers-in-arms laying dead with entrails covering their former torsos.

Clint Eastwood does some of the finest directing in his long career. One of the many striking features about LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA is the photography. Eastwood and his cinematographer have extracted much of the color from the negative that it almost looks like it was shot in monochrome, perfectly matching the island's volcanic terrain. And considering how he didn't speak the language, Eastwood also elicits good performances out of his Japanese actors, especially from Watanabe. General Kuribayashi is stuck between a rock and a hard place in relation to balancing loyalty to his Emperor against the grim realization that the promised reinforcements from Tokyo will never arrive, and Watanabe accords him the suitably world-weary dignity.

Despite his Republican status within Hollywood, Eastwood quells the jingoism to instead paint a humanist portrait of ordinary men simply trying to survive against insurmountable odds....with their honor intact, if possible. Not afraid to ruffle superpatriot feathers, he dares to show us that dishonorable men can exist on both sides, and he does so without the usual cardboard stereotypes. War always brings out the worst in people and to Japan's diehard fanatics, surrender is not an option. They will shoot down any deserters without a second thought, but some Americans are not immune to evil either. An exhausted and hungry Shimizu discovers this the hard way when a Marine shoots him dead after he's formally surrendered to them.

With FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS slated for an October 2006 release, it was decided to unveil LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA in late December to qualify for the Academy Awards. Good call, for the critics were more effusive in their praise for LETTERS than they were for FLAGS. It has the antiwar enlightenment of ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT combined with the graphic realism of SAVING PRIVATE RYAN and the narrative poetry of Akira Kurosawa. War films seldom get better than that!!🔚

The Bedford Incident (1965)

Moby Dick meets the Apocalypse.

[10/10 · 29 January 2024]

Sidney Poitier's passing in early 2022 evoked tributes from all over the world for his part in smashing the movies' racial barrier sixty plus years ago. Predictably, clips from IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT, TO SIR WITH LOVE, LILIES OF THE FIELD, THE DEFIANT ONES, RAISIN IN THE SUN, and GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER were repeatedly aired on television, as was the moment he made history with his Oscar win. But to my astonishment ~and profound disappointment~ one noteworthy film from that era was ignored, and I think it was just as culturally important as his others. That picture was THE BEDFORD INCIDENT, a terrific Cold War thriller from 1965.

What many viewers ~and even some of Poitier's fans~ failed to realize then (or now) was that his character in THE BEDFORD INCIDENT wasn't specifically written as an African American, nor was it rewritten as such to accommodate him. In fact, not once in the entire running time of THE BEDFORD INCIDENT was Poitier's race ever mentioned; the role he played was one that any actor, black or white, easily could have been cast in. Because its star Richard Widmark was also serving as the movie's producer, it's a pretty safe bet to assume that casting Poitier was his idea, given his liberal Democratic credentials. Indeed, Poitier later recalled that, as an upstart actor struggling in Hollywood, it was Widmark who was the first A-lister to invite him and his wife over for dinner.

As America transitioned from Eisenhower to Kennedy, the 1960's became the Golden Age of the intelligent Cold War drama, a contrast to the crude anti-communist propaganda efforts churned out by Hollywood the previous decade, of which BIG JIM MCLAIN and MY SON JOHN were two such egregious examples. Now that Senator McCarthy was dead ~and the disgusting blacklist along with him~ it was much safer to examine the tension between the East and West with an open mind minus any of the rah-rah jingoism. THE BEDFORD INCIDENT stands proudly alongside such masterworks as THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE, DR STRANGELOVE, SEVEN DAYS IN MAY, FAIL SAFE, THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD, and (to a degree) FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE as monuments to that genre.

Based on a 1963 novel, THE BEDFORD INCIDENT was the first film directed by James B Harris, a one-time producing partner of Stanley Kubrick. He intended it to be the serious minded flipside to DR STRANGELOVE after he and Kubrick parted ways over creative differences. With Widmark wearing two hats on the project, and with recent Oscar winner Poitier also onboard (no pun intended), BEDFORD was filmed at England's Shepperton Studios far away from Hollywood with a more than capable British crew.

Taking place at a time when the Cold War nearly turned hot, the U. S. S. Bedford is a naval destroyer that performs 24-hour reconnaissance in the North Atlantic. Sailing just below the Arctic circle and carrying nuclear warheads, the Bedford is under the command of Captain Eric Finlander (Widmark), a hard-nosed skipper who's a legend in the Navy for his tenacity. However, Finlander's reputation for speaking his mind has temporarily cost him an admiralship.

Apart from the captain, the only other preeminent officer on the ship is Commodore Wolfgang Shrepke, a former wartime U-boat commander now serving in peacetime as a Nato advisor on the Bedford. Shrepke's prestige within naval circles is so respected that he's easily able to indulge in his daily shotglass ritual of schnapps, something he was never denied when he was a prisoner of war, without any hassle from Finlander....or a paper trail.

Always on the lookout for Soviet naval activity, Finlander drives his crew to the brink, calling general quarters (also known as battle stations) every time there's even a hint of enemy sightings. He's especially rough on an eager-to-please ensign as a means of toughening him up. The Bedford itself is about as far apart from McHale's Navy as can be; there's no hijinks tolerated aboard his vessel, not when the stakes could mean life or death. As no-nonsense as the men approach their duty they never seem to relax either, a dangerous recipe in the nuclear age. Disengaging from card games or any other recreational activity ~not to mention having no females aboard~ has the potential of producing a detrimental effect on a man's mental health.

As disciplinarian as Finlander is, his actions are not to be equated with William Bligh keelhauling a sailor over some trivial infraction; in truth, he is well respected amongst his men, with most going so far as to decline offers from private industry just to remain aboard with him. When asked why this is, Finlander simply responds "I keep them interested....in the hunt!".

One day a pair of visitors are being lowered onto the ship's deck by a helicopter hovering above in the Arctic wind. One of them is Dr Chester Potter (Martin Balsam), the new medical officer and a reservist with three failed marriages behind him. The second is Ben Munceford (Poitier), a civilian photojournalist granted permission by the Pentagon to research the ship and its captain for a magazine article. It is through the viewpoint of these individuals that we observe the unconventional behavior of the Bedford's captain and the men under his authority.

A career Navy man, Finlander takes a dim view towards all reserve officers, whom he regards as nothing more than armchair sailors, and Potter manages to rub him the wrong way without even half trying. As for Munceford, his being a member of the fourth estate has earned him the automatic mistrust of Finlander, a man who's always had a contentious relationship with the civilian press, more so since the Cuban Missile Crisis. His exchanges with Munceford alternate between co-operative charm and veiled hostility, depending on the questions he's asked.

While Nato and the Warsaw Pact play their various political chess games across the globe, Finlander's concentration is laser focused on a Soviet submarine, codenamed Big Red, submerged somewhere off the Greenland coast. The underwater vessel is eventually spotted inside the island's maritime jurisdiction and the captain pursues it with an obsession Herman Melville would have appreciated. Even after Big Red has retreated to the neutrality of international waters Finlander balks over letting sleeping dogs lie as he orders the Bedford's sonar to stalk the once-more elusive submersible hiding beneath the North Atlantic icebergs. His borderline predatory game of chicken alarms both Shrepke and Munceford, their anxiety further compounded by the skipper's frustration over the Pentagon's reining him in.

Widmark delivers the performance of his career as the Ahab-like Finlander, a man so obsessed with the cat-and-mouse he wages against his prey that he loses sight of why they're out there to begin with. How his fine acting got overlooked by the Academy remains a mystery. An excellent Poitier matches Widmark with his nuanced portrayal of Munceford, the Bedford's Ishmael if you will, bearing uncomfortable witness to the captain's fanatical brinksmanship. Martin Balsam won an Oscar that year for his supporting turn in a movie that no one remembers. He should have won it for THE BEDFORD INCIDENT instead, especially for his scene at the end when, pushed to the breaking point, Potter finally tells Finlander off.

When watching THE BEDFORD INCIDENT I noticed how similar Harris' visual style was to that of his former colleague. The deliberately glaring black & white photography has much in common with DR STRANGELOVE in the sense that both convey a feeling we're on the verge of doomsday. The unforgettably tense climax does nothing to dispel that sentiment. And although he never absorbed Kubrick's technical command of the medium, Harris manages to craft a movie that retains one's interest throughout its running time. However, BEDFORD's underperforming at the box office, and having only a fraction of Kubrick's talent, resulted in a less-than-stellar career for Harris.

Noted film critic Leslie Halliwell described THE BEDFORD INCIDENT as "a gripping mixture of DR STRANGELOVE and THE CAINE MUTINY". The subgenre of onscreen naval clashes, which had laid dormant in the years since the 1960's, made a comeback in the Nineties, with CRIMSON TIDE and THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER among others, but they lacked the thought provoking bite of THE BEDFORD INCIDENT. DAS BOOT, from West Germany, came the closest, perhaps because it wasn't infected with any of the typical Hollywood bombast. But THE BEDFORD INCIDENT superbly exemplifies those intelligent kinds of entertaining Judgment Day thrillers they don't seem to make anymore. 🔚

Casino (1995)

Goodfellas go West.

[9/10 · 28 January 2024]

Arguably the most engrossing and comprehensive motion picture to explore the the subject of Las Vegas, Martin Scorsese's CASINO had many viewers ~myself included~ making the inevitable comparisons to his classic GOODFELLAS. The similarities were not too hard to spot. For starters, both are violent, profane Faustian mob tales starring Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci that illuminate the murky depths beneath a glamorous façade, underscored by an excellent selection of pop/rock songs. Moreover, like on GOODFELLAS, Scorsese deploys the same voiceover narrative delivered by a protagonist ~or in this case, more than one~ to detail the rise and fall of the characters depicted therein.

Just as he did with GOODFELLAS, Scorsese reteams with crime reporter Nicholas Pileggi to craft a tale that sheds new light on a seamy institution that was already known for its darkness. The genesis for CASINO began as far back as 1980 when Pileggi happened to catch a Vegas newspaper article about a domestic dispute between a notorious gambler and his ex-stripper wife. Fascinated with the details unfolding, he slowly started gathering material for what he hoped to turn into a nonfiction book. But when Scorsese got wind of Pileggi's project prior to the release of GOODFELLAS, the director encouraged him to instead transform the story into a screenplay, which Scorsese would assist him on once he had two other commitments, CAPE FEAR and THE AGE OF INNOCENCE, in the can first.

Bringing DeNiro and Pesci into CASINO was a no-brainer, with the latter virtually reprising his temperamental GOODFELLAS character in all but name. Scorsese regular Frank Vincent was also hired and, in a reversals of fortune, played a wise guy who gets to exact cinematic revenge on Pesci. Casting Don Rickles added some authentic Vegas flavor to the movie, but Scorsese's masterstroke was reeling in Sharon Stone, not that she needed much cajoling. After her breakout in the sexually provocative BASIC INSTINCT, Stone was one of Hollywood's biggest and most glamorous stars of the early Nineties, but her subsequent generic starring vehicles made the notion of her working with Scorsese and DeNiro a pipe dream....until she was approached to play hustler Ginger McKenna.

With more than half the three hour running time taking place inside a casino, Scorsese and his production team had to choose between using a real one or a large specially designed soundstage. Ultimately, they opted to shoot at the Riviera at night during its off hours ~or what could be considered off hours for a gambling house that never sleeps. The exterior scenes of the fictional Tangiers Hotel, however, took place at the recently closed Landmark which, in a year, would have a date with the demolition contractors.

CASINO opens in 1983, where Sam "Ace" Rothstein (DeNiro), the most sought-after bookie in the gaming business, barely survives a murder attempt when a bomb detonates in his car. In voiceover narration ~post-opening credits~ Rothstein takes us back ten years to a time when the Mafia ruled supreme over the strip from their comfort zone of Kansas City which, according to Ace, was "as far west as the bosses could get to Vegas without getting arrested". With nary a vice, aside from his profession, Ace's reputation as the finest odds maker in the country has made him highly prized by the mob. But he takes such a scientific approach to his job that he's incapable of truly enjoying the fruits of his labors.

In '73, Ace is handed the keys to the lucrative Tangiers Hotel despite not having a Nevada gaming license. On paper, a real estate businessman serves as frontman for the Tangiers, but in actuality it's Ace who oversees the entire day-to-day operation, from the casino floors, restaurants, and stage shows to the skimming on behalf of the Mafia. Rothstein is such a micro-managing perfectionist that he insists on each muffin containing the exact amount of blueberries inside. Transforming Vegas will undoubtedly create opposition, so the bosses send over East Coast Nicky Santoro (Pesci) to serve as Ace's bodyguard.

But the bright neon lights and glamorous façade are intoxicating to someone like Nicky, who envisions putting his own personal brand on Sin City. While continuing to do the job he was brought in for, he moonlights by using his handpicked crew to brazenly rob just about everything in Vegas not affiliated with his employers. As long as Nicky isn't derelict in his duty, the bosses are indifferent to his extracurricular activities. However, subtlety is not a word that exists in Nicky's vocabulary. Treating Las Vegas as his own Wild West playground, his reckless exploits threaten to incur the wrath of the state lawmakers and cops who otherwise looked the other way.

The third wheel in this morality tale is Ginger, a former showgirl and ex-prostitute now making a very auspicious living as one of the best con artists on the Strip. Seemingly in complete charge of her own destiny, her only Achilles heel is her one-time pimp Lester (James Woods), a leech to whom she has a sentimental attachment. Although aware of Lester's presence, a top-of-the-world Ace nevertheless pursues and marries Ginger, has a child with her, and provides a lavish lifestyle befitting a trophy wife that will make her the unofficial First Lady of Las Vegas. So....to recap, we have a nitpicking control freak wedded to a superficial drug addicted gold digger. What could possibly go wrong with this scenario, huh? (Insert sarcasm emoji).

Ultimately, hubris and forbidden fruit make for a lethal cocktail. Predictably, Ace and Ginger's marriage hits speed bumps due to his obsessive suspicion and jealousy, plus her giving him plenty of reasons for that lack of trust. And count on Nicky to step in and make a tense situation even more tense. His fast and loose flouting of the law eventually gets him banned from every casino and hotel in the state, forcing him to find creative new ways to remain a strong presence in the Vegas underworld.

But those transgressions ~including murder~ pale in comparison to Nicky's most dangerous gamble. Initially a sympathetic ear to Ginger's marital problems, he begins tryst with her that could put both their lives in danger if the old-fashioned bosses back east ever found out. And watching carefully from a distance at all the melodrama unfolding is none other than the F. B. I., who won't rest until they bring the whole house of cards toppling down.

The acting in any Scorsese picture is always going to be impeccable, and it's no different with CASINO. As Ace Rothstein, DeNiro is....well, he's DeNiro, an actor incapable of embarrassing himself on the screen. Ace is a man who can often be his own worst enemy, a man so in control of his professional life that he thinks it can apply to his personal side. His misplaced self-assurance and narcissistic belief that he can change a person such as the gold digging Ginger is a sure-fire recipe for disaster. Joe Pesci, as I stated in the third paragraph, portrays Nicky with exactly the same bull-in-a-china-shop unpredictability as he did with Tommy in GOODFELLAS, thus rendering his character....predictable.

However, it's Sharon Stone who's the true epiphany here. Determined to show that there's more to her than a sexy face, Stone throws herself into her role of Ginger. In some moments she confidently struts the Strip, treating the pavements, hotel lobbies, and casino floors as if they were her own personal catwalk. In others, Stone realistically captures Ginger's demons as she descends into the abyss of drugs and alcohol abuse. Stone received her first (and only, so far) Academy Award nomination for her performance.

As he did on GOODFELLAS, Scorsese shows us that he has an excellent ear for music to match his vision for good filmmaking. Once again, he's assembled a first-rate soundtrack of recording artists that range from Johann Sebastian Bach to The Rolling Stones. Scorsese's production design team, headed by Dante Ferretti, do a superlative job here, as does cinematographer Robert Richardson and the director's go-to editor Thelma Schoonmaker. At three hours length, CASINO never bores, but it does have an air of grandiosity about it, much like the city it depicts. Compared to GOODFELLAS, CASINO may not deal a royal flush, but it's definitely a full house🔚

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Welcome to Sherwood.

[10/10 · 27 January 2024]

It would take a Google search to unearth the exact number of different leading men who've portrayed Robin Hood, from Douglas Fairbanks to Russell Crowe. But for sheer durability ~even long after the man is dead~ Errol Flynn clearly sits comfortably in the lead. Seldom in movie history was there so perfect a marriage between actor and role. Undeniably charismatic, impudent, and easy on the ladies' eyes, Flynn was the ultimate swashbuckler on-screen and off, duelling to the death with a sword in one hand while holding yon fair maidens with the other. Sporting a devil-may-care grin, this real-life Tasmanian devil was one of the biggest draws on the Warner Bros lot during Hollywood's Golden Age, starring in such period adventures as THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE, CAPTAIN BLOOD, and THE SEA HAWK.

But it was 1938's THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD that truly made Errol Flynn immortal. As I pointed out, Douglas Fairbanks already portrayed the English outlaw back in the silent era. In the Thirties and Forties Warner Bros was the studio that did it all: gangster flicks, musicals, prestige dramas, women's pictures (usually starring Bette Davis), film noir, and Westerns. ROBIN HOOD would be its first experiment with the relatively new ~and very expensive~ three-strip Technicolor process. As the casting began to take shape with Flynn accompanied by Olivia de Havilland, Claude Rains, and Basil Rathbone, the initial plan to film in black & white was scrapped in favor of shooting in color.

Originally slated to direct ROBIN HOOD was William Keighley, but in the production's first weeks, Jack Warner and producer Hal B Wallis were unimpressed with cost overruns and dailies, so they replaced fired Keighley and replaced him with Michael Curtiz, the studio's top director. A master of keeping his films moving at a good pace, Curtiz knew how to take firm control of the set, but he had the peopling skills of Captain Bligh. Although he and Flynn worked together on previous projects, theirs was not a match made in movie heaven, certainly not on the level of Bogart and Huston or John Ford and the Duke. Many times the mutual animosity between the two men almost came to blows, but because both were contractually obligated to Warners they had no choice but to endure each other.

Flynn's leading lady was Olivia de Havilland, also under contract to Warner Bros. The chemistry between them was palpable from the first day they met, and THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD was the third of eight movies they made together, one less than Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn. Theirs was one of the great Hollywood romances that never consummated, for late in her life de Havilland acknowledged the affection they had for one another, yet never acted upon because he was married at the time. In ROBIN HOOD, she was cast as Lady Marian Fitzwalter because her own gentrified upbringing was more befitting for playing a patrician.

Taking place in 1191 England, the Norman king Richard the Lionheart is captured by Leopold of Austria upon returning from the Third Crusade. A ransom demand is issued to Richard's brother Prince John (Rains),who connives to exploit his older sibling's misfortune to amass more power for himself. Under the pretense of gathering moneys for the ransom, John drastically increased the Saxons' taxes ~the Normans get a free pass, I guess~ with the collections to be brutally enforced by his personally handpicked knights and quislings, including Sir Guy of Gisbourne (Rathbone).

What Prince John and his treacherous sycophants didn't count on was a rebellion led by the Saxon Sir Robin of Locksley, the finest archer in all of England ~and his swordplay isn't half bad either. Robin's reputation as a trouble maker had already preceded him by the time he personally interrupts a lavish banquet hosted by Gisbourne in honor of the visiting John. In attendance are the various Norman dignitaries, including Lady Marian (the king's royal ward) and the Sheriff of Nottingham. To no audience member's surprise, Lady Marian looks her nose down on the Saxon gatecrasher, seeing him as nothing more than common.

But Prince John, impressed by Robin's cockiness, sees no harm in allowing him an audience since he's metaphorically painted himself into a corner....or so it would seem! Robin, showing no signs of fear, pledges henceforth not only to secure the King's release but exact an eye for an eye for every Saxon peasant killed by Gisbourne's knights. Making good on his promise, Robin successfully fights his way out of the castle whereupon Will Scarlett waits to safely escort the two of them into the safety of Sherwood Forest.

With a price now on his head, Robin sets about recruiting his rebel army of Merry Men, his brain trust of which include Will, Little John, and Friar Tuck. By granting protection and shelter to the helpless Saxons, Robin had earned their loyalty with the knowledge that Gisbourne and the Sheriff will try to drive a wedge in the hope of creating a Judas within the Saxons....which will never happen.

One day, Gisbourne's contingent, accompanied by Marian and her ladies in waiting, are returning from another tax gathering plunder carrying more than enough money to pay for the King's freedom....the despoiling of which is actually destined for Prince John's coffers. However, before Gisbourne is able to deliver the ill-gotten gains, he and his party are taken completely by surprise in Sherwood Forest by Robin and his men. Outnumbered and humiliated, the Normans are escorted to one of Locksley's many hideouts where hungry Saxons gratefully accept the remaining spoils ~apart from those intended for Richard's release.

It's during her time spent in Robin's company that Lady Marian undergoes a profound epiphany. Seeing for the first time with her own eyes the suffering her Norman bluebloods have inflicted on the helpless peasantry, the sheltered Marian's attitude goes from elitist entitlement to noblesse oblige. Realizing that it is Prince John, and not Robin, who is England's true traitor, she henceforth vows to do everything she can to restore Richard to the throne. But Lady Marian will have to be extremely careful from this moment on because people on both sides have noticed the growing attraction between her and Robin.

The entire cast in ROBIN HOOD is splendid, including those playing English characters with American accents. The 29-year old Flynn's athleticism may not have been as daring as Douglas Fairbanks', but his incisive performance and cocksure swagger make him the definitive swashbuckler. (And to think the studio originally wanted James Cagney!!) Flynn's offscreen debauchery led him to an early grave at the age of 50, but he remains ingrained in Technicolor eternity as Robin Hood. It's also difficult to imagine any other actress than Olivia de Havilland as Marian....and that includes Audrey Hepburn. Portraying the evil Guy of Gisbourne, Basil Rathbone, in actuality an excellent swordsman, gives us the suave villain we all love to loathe, a perfect foil for Flynn's Robin. The urbane Claude Rains' Prince John is a cultivated swine, but a swine nevertheless.

There was a little doubt among anyone at Warner Bros that THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD would do very well at the box office. In the 1930's, in spite of Roosevelt's progressive New Deal, the Great Depression continued to make life miserable for the working class in America and all over the world. The economic hardships were so severe that it contributed to a large rise in right-wing fascism....and we all know how that turned out! People badly needed something to laugh and cheer about, and the notion of a charismatic outlaw stealing from the rich and giving to the poor had enormous appeal. The beautiful color photography was another asset, as was the musical score by Erich Wolfgang Korngold. A classically trained composer, Korngold considered movie music as beneath him. But when Hitler began annexing his beloved Austria, the Jewish librettist decided that maybe going to Hollywood isn't such a bad idea after all.

Michael Curtiz was a director whom few actors enjoyed working with, but there's a reason he was Jack Warner's favorite. Curtiz instinctively knew how to inject adrenaline into his movies, even in the scenes where there is no action. Today's octane blockbusters rely too heavily on Cgi, explosions, car chases, et cetera to retain the audience's attention. In the Golden Age, that technology wasn't available, and if it was I doubt that those directors would've used them because they'd consider the devices distracting. The climactic sword duel with Flynn and Rathbone is probably the most celebrated in film history because it looked realistic....and had a terrific storyline leading up to the climax.

In contrast to all the legends about Robin Hood, the truth is he never existed in real-life except in the fanciful minds of folkloric balladeers and writers. As for authentic historical figures, the childless King Richard died in 1199 from injuries sustained in battle on French soil, leaving no heir for England except for his brother. For the next seventeen years John, unlike his screen alter ego, ascended to the throne and ruled with an iron fist. It was during his tyrannical reign that he was forced to ratify the Magna Carta to prevent civil war in England. THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD may be historically inaccurate hokum, but it's also enjoyably inaccurate hokum. 🔚

Easy Rider (1969)

Riding high on the hogs.

[9/10 · 1 January 2024]

For better or worse, 1969 was the year when the counterculture truly became mainstream after being on the fringe of society since the decade began. Sure, '69 gave us such euphoric highs as Woodstock and the Miracle Mets and the moon landing, but it also produced its share of darkness, from Chappaquidick to Charles Manson to Altamont. The movies were also heading into different directions during those pivotal twelve months.

Just two years earlier, the permissive attitudes depicted in THE GRADUATE and BONNIE AND CLYDE challenged the societal norms of the era and, in doing so, proved that there was a mass youth market out there waiting to be tapped into. The following summer, the unconventional narrative and psychedelic images of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY became an unlikely acid trip for hippies....only without the acid! However, the true watershed moment for cinematic nonconformity emerged in the summer of '69 with an unusual road picture called EASY RIDER.

At that time, biker movies weren't considered a trendsetting phenomenon. When a black-leather clad Brando tore around town on a Triumph Thunderbird, he inspired a teenage movement that paved the way for James Dean and Elvis Presley. Motorcycle sales steadily rose across the free world, but in Hollywood, the vehicle ~and the rebel attitude it represented~ languished as a B-movie subculture for much of the Fifties. Steve McQueen made the motorbike fashionable again when he led the Germans on a memorable chase across the Fatherland, but THE GREAT ESCAPE strictly fell into the category of a World War Two film. Throughout the Sixties, it was actually the independent filmmakers, not the A-listers who explored the biker genre by giving the public such low budget outings as THE WILD ANGELS, THE BORN LOSERS, and HELL'S ANGELS ON WHEELS.

Roger Corman's THE WILD ANGELS was Peter Fonda's first foray into on-screen motorcycling, but it wasn't an A-list picture. Both Peter and sister Jane were gradually making their names within a Hollywood much different than that from their famous father's. As for Dennis Hopper, his big screen career started out promisingly opposite James Dean ~twice~ but soon descended into television and unofficial blackballing due to his truculent rebelliousness. By 1968, Hopper crawled his way back up, and at that juncture decided to work on what would become EASY RIDER.

The two of them began to craft a script together with the intention of Hopper directing while Fonda served as the producer. They asked iconoclastic writer Terry Southern, a master of satire, to help them out with their screenplay. Ironically, the indie studio American International balked at Fonda's projected budget as well as concern over Hopper's reputation for substance abuse. Even more Ironically, Fonda succeeded in securing a deal with Columbia Pictures thanks to his friendship with an executive who had a taste for thought provoking material.

Conceiving their enterprise as an anti-establishment neo-Western, Fonda and Hopper set most of EASY RIDER throughout the American Southwest. Playing the two leads, Fonda is Wyatt, aka Captain America, whose neck length hair and sideburns belie the stars & stripes adorning his helmet, leather jacket and Harley Davidson chopper. Hopper is his bushy mustachioed pal Billy, whose scruffy, dirty tresses are longer than Wyatt's. These guys are no sons of anarchy; they're just a pair of dropouts disillusioned over how their country squandered the promise of the New Frontier with assassinations, racism, and the Vietnam War.

Among EASY RIDER's departures from Hollywood tradition is in the music. THE GRADUATE opened up new doors by using a soundtrack comprised entirely of popular songs, but they were all from the same artist: Simon and Garfunkel. On EASY RIDER, Hopper and Fonda harvested contemporary musical numbers from the great rock stars of the day. In the opening scene, there is no dialogue as Steppenwolf's "The Pusher" sets the mood, with Wyatt and Billy smuggle cocaine in from Mexico. Making a handsome score out of the deal, they conceal the proceeds inside the gas tanks of their choppers and set out on the road to the intoxicating tune of "Born To Be Wild".

The pair's plan is to ride from Los Angeles to catch the Mardi Gras in New Orleans. By day they enjoy the emancipation of the long, winding road but at night they're unable to procure lodgings because their hippie appearance antagonizes every motel owner they come across, forcing them to camp in the outdoors. But not everyone over thirty is hostile to the two, as a farming family allows them onto their property to repair a flat tire on Wyatt's hog, and further extend hospitality by inviting them to stay for dinner.

The next day, the duo are back on the road and pick up a fellow hippie, played by character actor Luke Askew. Now if you're wondering why that name sounds familiar, then you might remember him as the nasty Boss Paul in COOL HAND LUKE, plus many guest spots on television, almost always as a bad guy. (In retrospect, casting Askew as a laid back longhair is somewhat of an aberration in his career). Anyway, getting back to EASY RIDER, Askew's hitchhiker welcomes them to spend the day at his commune, where free love and drugs are practiced with equal abandon.

Wyatt and Billy soon have an addition to their travels, a reassuring third wheel if you will. Spending the night in a small town Texas jail for disrupting a parade ~just an excuse for the rednecks to run 'em in~ one of their cellmates is George Hanson (Jack Nicholson), a boozy, yet easygoing, civil liberties attorney sleeping off a bender. A self-described "square", George strikes up a friendship with the boys and, before you know it, he tags along with them in search of some excitement.

EASY RIDER fits into the category of anti-drama, in the sense that was a deliberately unpolished ~and seemingly plotless~ movie made strictly for the authority-questioning psychedelic generation. EASY RIDER took a wrecking ball to traditional Hollywood narratives by combining jump cuts and rapid fire editing with occasionally unsteady camera movements and hallucinogenic imagery to create something that scared the hell out of the older mainstream. The acid trip sequence at the Mardi Gras, in particular, was one that left sober audiences puzzled, to say the least. To be fair, there isn't a profound exchange of dialogue to be found between Wyatt and Billy because when these guys aren't riding their Harleys, they're busy getting high!! And who could possibly orate a spine tingling soliloquy like Olivier or Burton when they're wasted? It's therefore no surprise to learn that much of their banter was ad-libbed, and rumor has it that one of the reasons for that was because Hopper and Fonda regularly smoked marijuana both on and off the set.

Since Fonda and Hopper's verbalizing is minimalistic in tone, the task of elucidating EASY RIDER's social commentary is incumbent upon Nicholson's soused counsellor, with his pithy observations on the decline of America. His performance as George thrust him into the mainstream limelight for the first time in his career and earned Nicholson number one of twelve Oscar nominations, in this case for Best Supporting Actor.

The tagline for EASY RIDER was "A man went looking for America....and couldn't find it anywhere". It's one of the most apropos catchphrases ever conceived for a motion picture because it perfectly encapsulates what it meant to come of age in the 1960's. Wyatt and Billy are byproducts of that tune-in-turn-on-drop-out ethos that saw the idealism of their 1950's childhoods explode into ugliness. Withdrawing themselves from the status quo was seen as a coping mechanism to deal with the madness that was engulfing their country. EASY RIDER was a movie seen by the under-thirty set as one that articulated their aversion to the consumerist culture of their parents....and perhaps one to expand their consciousness too.🔚

Groundhog Day (1993)

Groundhog déjà vu.

[10/10 · 31 December 2023]

Time has been very good to GROUNDHOG DAY. In the thirty years since its release, it has gone from being a mere comedic vehicle for Bill Murray to a full-fledged American classic. It's a romantic comedy worthy of those two words. It's also a Twilight Zone-ish fantasy that Rod Serling would have appreciated, and it's a rumination about spiritual redemption. Just GROUNDHOG DAY's title alone has now become ubiquitous with reliving a monotonous and unpleasant situation over and over. It's so ubiquitous, in fact, that the Oxford, Cambridge, and Merriam Webster dictionaries have since updated their definitions to include that of a repetitive cycle in addition to the yearly February tradition.

The film's gradual success put Punxsutawney PA ~and its star rodent Phil~ on the radar of everyone unfamiliar with their annual Groundhog festivities even though the town has been doing it since 1887. But thanks to the movie, subsequent attendances skyrocketed. Now a popular tourist destination, Punxsutawney has seen certain members of the cast invited over to serve as honorary Grand Marshals. Today, almost every state in the union hosts their own celebrations starring their signature furry attractions, with noteworthy examples being Staten Island Chuck and Milltown Mel, while Canada's most famous is Wiarton Willie.

Directed by Bill Murray's frequent collaborator Harold Ramis, GROUNDHOG DAY was the brainchild of Danny Rubin, who wrote the script as far back as 1990. His agent passed it on to another client, Ramis, who liked the concept but thought that revisions would be needed. Working in tandem with Rubin, Ramis concentrated on balancing the story's pessimism and optimism with the necessary humor. Prior to Murray's casting, Tom Hanks and Michael Keaton were the first two actors to be offered the lead role of Phil Connors, but both declined. The part of Rita Hanson was initially conceived as someone for Connors to exchange sarcastic barbs with, but Ramis felt that Andie MacDowell projected the necessarily elegant warmth which would work much better opposite Murray.

Ramis and Murray had worked together on and off for twenty years, but unfortunately, GROUNDHOG DAY put an end to that friendship. Never an easy person to be around, Murray quarreled constantly with Ramis over creative differences, pushing the even tempered director to the limits of his patience. The straw that broke the camel's back happened when Murray, having a well-known reputation for rudeness, was admonished by Ramis for disrespecting a cast member. The two never spoke to each other again until finally reconciling prior to Ramis' death in 2014.

Phil Connors is an obnoxious and misanthropic Pittsburgh weatherman who's a true legend in his own mind. Oozing narcissism and sarcasm out of every pore, he's like Dennis Miller....only with a sense of humor! With cameraman Larry and new producer Rita in tow, Phil is scheduled to cover the Groundhog Day celebrations in Punxsutawney for the fourth straight year, an assignment he considers beneath him. After dropping him off at a quaint B&B, Rita and Larry check in at the town's hotel in anticipation of the next day's workload.

It's now 6 A. M. on February 2nd, and Phil is awakened to the sound of the radio's alarm playing Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe". After getting dressed and on his way to work, he smugly limits his conversations with the good natured locals inside the lodge. Upon rendezvousing at the town centre known as Gobbler's Knob, everyone there is in a festive mood....all except Connors who, barely able to conceal his disdain, completes the segment with his usual snarky tone. His hopes of getting the hell out of Punxsutawney are dashed when a blizzard ~which he predicted would bypass everything~ closes all roads leading out. Like it or not, Phil and the others will have spend another night in town.

The next morning Connors awakens once again to Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe"....and the deejays' identical banter from the previous day. At first he simply assumes the radio station is replaying the Groundhog broadcast. But as he's on his way out he encounters (a) the same cheerful fellow in the hallway, (b) the same B&B lady chatting about the weather, (c) the same elderly hobo seeking a handout, and (d) Ned Ryerson, the same insurance salesman who, apparently, is an old classmate of his. Seeing everyone gathered at Gobbler's Knob, a confused Phil once again covers the event, but, like yesterday, he's unable to leave Punxsutawney due to the snowstorm.

For the third straight morning Phil is awakened to Sonny and Cher, and for the third straight morning it's February 2. The cycle continues on the fourth day, then the fifth, the sixth, etc. To paraphrase Yogi Berra, it's déjà vu all over again, but on steroids. Unable to escape the time loop, Connors decides to react to his situation in the most comical ways imaginable. Given that there is no tomorrow, he can break as many laws as he wants....because in the morning he's back to square one ~and therefore will face no consequences.

Connors has taken advantage of his misfortune to seduce two local women, so now he decides to expand his horizons towards Rita. Prior to making his moves, he aims to learn as much as he can about her personal likes and dislikes so they "surprised" to discover how much they have in common. But count on Phil to sabotage himself by putting his foot in his mouth, something he does so often it's a wonder he doesn't have athlete's tongue. He comes very close to seducing Rita but, once again, his verbal incontinence sends him back to the B&B to spend the night alone.

Paul McCartney may have longed for yesterday but Connors only has eyes for the elusive tomorrow. Disillusioned, he attempts suicide, but even when he succeeds he ends up failing because the next morning he wakes up alive and well and starts February 2nd all over again whether he wants to or not. Throwing in the towel, Phil decides to adapt to his predicament by doing something unorthodox and radical....being a nicer person!!! Thanks to reliving the same day every twenty-four hours, he knows precisely where to be whenever an emergency arises. By taking a legitimate interest in the townsfolk's lives, Phil thus transforms himself from the Groundhog grinch into George Bailey; after all, if he's to be sentenced to of a never-ending penance, he might as well get a wonderful life out of it.

GROUNDHOG DAY has actually been compared to IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, albeit a more cynical and darker version with a noticeable absence of schmaltz than that of its contemporaries. It's precisely that reason GROUNDHOG DAY successfully replicates the Frank Capra touch....because it doesn't try to! Unlike filmmakers such as Rob Reiner, neither Ramis nor Rubin sat down in front of a typewriter and said to themselves "Hey, let's make a whimsical Capra carbon copy ", nor did they attempt to evoke such comparisons. Strangely enough, it was the vampire chronicles of Anne Rice that piqued their curiosity about immortality, with them adding some Buddhist reflections about spirituality and redemption into the mix.

As the unctuous Phil Connors, Bill Murray has never been better, bringing to his role the tricky combination of comedic off-putting with the necessary likeability of a redeemed man. He should have received an Oscar nomination for his revelatory performance, but instead fell victim to the Academy's belief that dramatic acting is the only thing to be taken seriously. It reminded me of an old maxim spoken by Shakespearean actor Edmund Kean on his deathbed: "Dying is easy. It's comedy that's hard!". Murray is one of a select few capable of pulling that off. Daniel Day Lewis is one of the greatest actors of our time but I could never see him doing more justice to Phil Connors than Murray did.

Over the decades, bloggers and film historians have amused themselves calculating just how many days it took Connors before February 3rd finally arrived. Some have even speculated that the time loop encompassed years of his life. Almost every religious faith on earth has attached a philosophical importance to it. Some have liked Phil's plight to that of Ebenezer Scrooge. In some ways, there's a bit of Phil Connors in all of us, in a sense that we've done or said things long ago that we're not proud of as we reflect on them in adulthood. Perhaps to redefine ourselves we need to endure our own Groundhog Day of hell in order to find our slice of heaven.🔚

Promising Young Woman (2020)

Promising young filmmaker.

[10/10 · 27 December 2023]

Had it not been released at the end of 2020 when the pandemic threw our lives and livelihoods into disarray, PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN might have become the feminist landmark it deserved to be like its maternal predecessor THELMA AND LOUISE. In order to make a profit 90% of movies slated for release that year were forced to rely on streaming services when Covid-19 forced the temporary closure of multiplexes. And because people all over the globe were now required to work out of their homes instead of showing up at the workplace, that meant they could no longer congregate at the water cooler. (For the benefit of millennials and Gen-Z'ers, the water cooler was nomenclature for where employees gathered during breaks to chat about non-work related matters.) Social media had taken communication to a state-of-the-art, but when it comes to sheer word-of-mouth, you still can't beat the ol' fashioned face to face conversation.

In 2017, Ronan Farrow's New Yorker exposé on Harvey Weinstein shed a long-overdue spotlight on the mogul's 20-plus years of predatory behavior in Hollywood. Overnight, Farrow's article, which coincided with a corresponding account by the New York Times, opened up the floodgates where many actresses felt emboldened to share their personal stories about Weinstein's abusive personality. But it didn't end with him. Several prominent males in the public eye were similarly outed for their crass misogyny as women ~and a few men~ once too afraid to speak up were now given their day in the court of public opinion.

Almost around the time Farrow opened the world's eyes to Weinstein's depravity, Emerald Fennell began working on a timely screenplay. Fennell's career started as an actress in supporting roles, but she had an equal passion for writing, starting with children's books before eventually landing the head writer's job on the TV series Killing Eve. With that talent and ambition, it was inevitable she would want to branch out as a director. Upon completing the script for PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN, Fennell was able to sell the outline with the proviso that she be allowed to direct.

Cassandra Thomas (Carey Mulligan) is a pushing thirty medical school dropout who never recovered from the rape and suicide of her best friend and equally aspiring doctor Nina Fisher. Adding to that trauma was a lackluster university investigation into the assault and no criminal charges brought against the accused, despite the incident being witnessed by a group of drunken frat boys. Still living at home with Mom and Dad, by day Cassie works as a coffee shop barista, but at nights she's an avenging angel of sorts. Determined to teach sexual predators a lesson they'll never forget, Cassie isn't exactly Glenn Close boiling the rabbit, yet her calculated focus borders dangerously on sociopathy.

Whether her attire is businesslike or plain Jane or just plainly provocative, Cassie always pretends to be so intoxicated she's on the verge of passing out. Without fail, some "nice guy" will gallantly help her to her feet, offer a lift home, but inevitably escort her to his place to take advantage of. As she lays on his bed in a supposedly semi-conscious state, he will attempt to remove her panties when Cassie very suddenly ~and very soberly~ asks him what he thinks he's doing. Needless to say, he's shocked into instant sobriety!!

A lifeline into normalcy is unexpectedly thrown Cassie's way when a former classmate shows up unexpectedly at her place of employment for a cup of coffee. Recognizing her almost immediately, Ryan Cooper, now a pediatrician, casually reminisces about the old days and then mentions that Al Monroe, Nina's rapist, is back in town and due to get married. With all the bad memories flooding back to Cassie, she now alters her agenda to exact revenge not only on Nina's attacker but all of the people who enabled him. Her plans do not involve physical violence but rather to give them a taste of the psychological trauma Nina went through prior to ending her life. One of Cassie's first targets is Monroe's lawyer, whose aggressive tactics increased Nina's decline. But it's not just the men; there are women who are just as morally culpable.

One such female is Madison, who, at the time, actually engaged in victim blaming. Reuniting with Cassie for lunch after several years apart, Madison is now married with children, but she shows no sign of regret over the past. Staying sober while getting Madison drunk ~possibly with the aid of a roofie~ Cassie bends the law as much as possible without breaking it by arranging for her "friend" to experience her own post-blackout anxiety. Another target is Elizabeth Walker (Connie Britton), a one-time college administrator but now serving as the dean. Blaming Walker for caring more about the accused's reputation than the victim ~which always when big money intervenes~ Cassie visits her office under the pretense of enrolling back in school before springing her trap.

While Cassie is redressing her late friend, her love life is getting a makeover. Clearly smitten with her, Ryan wears down her defenses a date with her, showing her that all guys shouldn't be painted with the same brush. But her romantic rebound hits a speed bump when Ryan unexpectedly catches her on one of her nighttime crusades. Assuming that she's playing around, he dumps her, leaving her heartbroken and angry at herself for allowing to let things go this far. Pleading for another chance, Cassie succeeds in winning him back, the relationship progressing to the point where she invites him over for dinner with her parents. A startling revelation occurs towards the picture's final act, with the potential for serious ramifications if Cassie isn't careful.

PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN is a triumph for both Carey Mulligan and Emerald Fennell. Mulligan delivers a superb performance as a damaged lady whose trauma over her friend left her with no faith in the legal system. Whether she's playing drunk ~which is apparently very difficult for an actor~ or abruptly switching to sobriety, she keeps the audience glued to the screen. We'd almost feel sorry for some of the guys if they weren't such creeps. By simply using her eyes to convey emotion ~or the occasional lack of it~ Mulligan can make us glad we're not in Cassie's crosshairs yet also evoke empathy over how red tape shatters the innocent and protects the guilty. Mulligan's acting secured her a well deserved Academy Award nomination....but no win! Frankly, I thought she was robbed!!

The accolades for Fennell's directorial debut were very bountiful. Selecting Mulligan for the lead role was a masterstroke but, with the supporting parts, her intuition bordered on genius. To illustrate the deceptive nature of so-called nice guys Fennell hired male actors known more for their comedic timing than dramatic chops. By casting likeable personalities as unlikeable characters, it intensifies our surprise when these disarming charmers show their true colors. For one role, Fennell made a decision out of left field. Clancy Brown was noted for his portrayals of nasty individuals ~especially in THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION~ but in PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN he's cast against type as Cassie's supportive father, a man not quite as high on the paternal barometer as Atticus Finch, but about equal with Juno's dad.

Fennell was just as inspired with the ladies too. Alison Brie's credentials encompassed more into comedy than drama, and when she stumbled onto Fennell's script, she was absolutely determined to play Madison. Jennifer Coolidge and Molly Shannon were two other women who had comedic timing coursing through their blood, which is why it was unusual to see them as the mothers of, respectively, Cassie and Nina.

Fennell's first time calling the shots made a few impressions on me. One is that Paris Hilton should restrict her singing to private outings only. 😆 Another is a particularly brilliant touch by Fennell where Cassie is walking in a near-trance after receiving a devastating bombshell. There is no dialogue spoken, only the voice of a little girl singing "Once Upon A Time There Was A Pretty Fly", a lullaby that signifies a child's loss of innocence. A true cinephile will recognize that tune from the Robert Mitchum classic THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER, which Fennell shows a clip of on the television set of Cassie's parents.

Emerald received Oscar nominations for both her direction and her original screenplay. Although she lost in lost in the former category, she took home the gold for the latter. With PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN Fennell created a feminist movie for the #MeToo generation that both genders really need to take a good,hard look at. Some might like the reflection that they see.🔚

Life of Brian (1979)

Makes BEN HUR look like an epic!

[10/10 · 23 December 2023]

Monty Python always delighted in pushing the envelope with their no-holds-barred brand of irreverent comedy, but nothing prepared them for the firestorm of controversy with LIFE OF BRIAN, their feature length followup to THE HOLY GRAIL. After gleefully skewering up Arthurian legend and Excalibur, the Pythons decided to turn their irreverent crosshairs toward a more delicate subject by setting their story during the time of Christ.

Whenever dealing with the contentious topic of Jesus Christ, every filmmaker from the great (George Stevens) to the unimaginative (Cecil B DeMille) have had to tread very gingerly when it came to religion for fear of intense backlash. Predictably, the reaction to LIFE OF BRIAN was furious condemnation, with Christian fundamentalists angrily accusing the comedy troupe of blasphemy and dishonoring Jesus's memory. The only flaw with their response was that the Pythons really weren't satirizing the Redeemer, but rather the entire concept of organized religion, which all six members shared a healthy distrust of. In fact, the only time good ol' JC is shown onscreen is in a wide shot during his Sermon on the Mount sequence.

Instead, Monty Python decided that their protagonist would be a man born on the same day as Jesus....but at the manger next door! However, as much as evangelical zealots bore the scars of Python's satirical barbs, they weren't the only ones to receive the lampoon treatment. Monty Python also took comedic jabs at modern-day left-wing unions and guerrillas, represented in LIFE OF BRIAN by the Judean splinter groups anxious to drive the Romans out.

The original financiers for LIFE OF BRIAN was E. M. I., but before production was scheduled to begin in Tunisia the corporation got cold feet and pulled the plug. To the eleventh hour rescue came a famous Monty Python fan: George Harrison. The former Beatle already collaborated with Eric Idle on the latter's Fab Four parody THE RUTLES: ALL YOU NEED IS CASH by performing a cameo as an interviewer. When Harrison heard about the Pythons' predicament he contacted them and offered the use of his company Handmade Films to bankroll LIFE OF BRIAN.

Brian Cohen is a Jewish lad born out of wedlock in a manger next door to someone else brought into the world on that day. Following a BEN HUR parody opening scene complete with angelic choirs and the Star of Bethlehem, the infant and his mother are visited by three wise men bearing gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Upon realizing their error, the Magi return and expropriate the gifts wrongly given to Mrs Cohen and deliver them to the rightful recipient at the other manger. We're then treated to a James Bond-esque title sequence sung by a woman whose voice has a striking resemblance to Shirley Bassey's.

The story then shifts to Judea in 33 Anno Domini....around tea time on a Saturday afternoon.😄 From a distance, an adult Brian and his mother are among a large flock of gatherers trying to hear Jesus's sermon ~as opposed to listening~ but acoustically are so far in the rear the Redeemer's words aren't being heard correctly. (Blessed are the cheese makers.)😆 A funny disagreement amongst the onlookers leads to a brawl. Not taking part in the skirmish, Brian is too preoccupied with an attractive woman who's a member of a rebel group called the People's Front of Judea ~or the PFJ for short. (Just don't mistake them for the Judean People's Front!)

A hilarious stoning sequence ~nope, not a pot party~ transpires where there's an unusual number of women present (who are not allowed to take part) in disguise wearing false beards. Later, after learning from Mom that his biological father was a Roman centurion, a stunned Brian storms out of their home to clear his head. Employed as a concessions vendor at a gladiator arena, Brian happens to notice the PFJ group in the bleachers and asks if he can help them rid Judea of the Romans. After some initial hesitation they agree, but first he must commit an act of public vandalism as an initiation.

Once his indoctrination is complete, Brian and the PFJ set out to execute a bold plan to slip into Pontius Pilate's palace ~except for leader Reg, who has a bad back~ where they will kidnap the governor's wife and hold her for ransom. Unfortunately, upon gaining entry, they discover that the People for a Free Galilee are plotting to do the exact same thing, leading to squabbling among the two groups. When the metaphorical dust settles, Brian is the only person left standing....apart from the Roman guards observing the altercations with amusement.

Taken into custody, Brian's cellmate is a prisoner that qualifies for what we now refer to as Stockholm Syndrome. Suspended to the wall with his wrists chained, this recipient of inversion therapy defends Rome's iron fisted rule by telling Brian "you'll probably get away with crucifixion for your first offense". The funniest scene in the movie is about to occur when our hero is escorted to Pilate himself, who is afflicted with a phonological disorder that could rival Elmer Fudd's. But that's not the funny part; it's his references to a very great friend in Rome named....uh, I probably shouldn't disclose it on this site. Because Pilate's own bodyguards are unable to keep a straight face at the mere mention of the governor's pal, Brian is able to escape from his captors.

Now on the run, Brian attempts to evade the authorities by blending in amidst a throng of would-be messiahs spouting off sermons to anyone who'll listen. Making a few offhand comments about individualism and free will, he abruptly stops pontificating when the coast is clear. Unfortunately, his words strike a chord with his listeners, who now insist that he's the prophet that will liberate them from their Roman oppressors....and then follow him everywhere he goes. Every attempt Brian makes to deny his divinity only falls on deaf ears!😆

LIFE OF BRIAN may be set in biblical times but there's many contemporary allegories to be found. In Monty Python's hands ancient Rome could be interpreted as an allusion to colonial Britain in the first half of the 20th century. After finally being granted independence, such jewels in the Crown as India, Arabia, Malaysia, and Nigeria were plagued by internal squabbling, violence and/or martial law, which their citizens felt was indistinguishable ~if not worse~ from their former rulers. The People's Front of Judea, the Campaign for a Free Galilee, and the Judean People's Front are the perfect comical metaphors for that post-colonial disarray.

Although the scene with Pilate pontificating about his pal from Rome is a side-splitter, a close second is the "What have the Romans ever done for us?" delivered by Reg. His comrades respond by saying that the Romans gave them the aqueduct....and medicine, irrigation, public health, roads, sanitation, education, wine, fresh water system, and overall maintaining the peace, thus hilariously undermining Reg's argument. Equally humorous is how the Pythons delineate the utter uselessness of the PFJ, who spend more time talking about how they're going to get rid of the Romans than actually doing anything!! ("This calls for immediate discussion!")😆

Like they did with MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL, the boys render their own absurdly historical spin on LIFE OF BRIAN while, conversely, depicting an extraordinarily convincing portrait of what it must have been like living under the thumb of ancient Rome. They also brilliantly illustrate the need to follow one's own path instead of blindly depending on some shepherd to do their thinking for them, something Brian implores to the Woodstock-like masses gathered outside his home. "You've got to think for yourselves! You're all individuals!", to which the crowd responds in unison "Yes! We're all individuals!".

LIFE OF BRIAN was Monty Python's most commercially successful enterprise in spite of the fierce reaction from religious groups. My father and I were lucky to have seen it theatrically in the autumn of 1979; many movie houses would not screen it due to intense pressure from evangelicals. The SPARTACUS inspired crucifixion finale was particularly provocative, but there's an important lesson to be learned from the musical ditty sung by those unfortunate souls nailed to the crosses. It coincides with my own philosophy, which is: if you're feeling down then think of something that makes you laugh and smile. Remember that old adage "Laughter is the best medicine"? If there's any truth to that, then Monty Python may be the greatest medical practitioners since Hippocrates. 🔚

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

And now for something completely irreverent.

[10/10 · 21 December 2023]

Monty Python was to comedy what the Beatles were to popular music....and not just because they too were British and had a member named John. Brilliant, absurdist, and audacious, the Oxford and Cambridge educated Pythons revolutionized television humor by bringing an intellectual edge to their uniquely satirical brand of comedy. Prior to the 1969 debut of Monty Python's Flying Circus, the public's idea of sketch comedy was Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In and the Carol Burnett Show. Some of Carol's skit ~especially Tim Conway's dentist~ hold up beautifully today, but Laugh-In is strictly a product of its era.

What made Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Michael Palin, and the two Terrys (Jones and Gilliam) so groundbreaking was their take-no-prisoners approach. Bearing a style light-years removed from vaudeville, sacred cows were fair game for the Pythons as they fearlessly took on religion, sex, and other hallowed institutions....and made us absolutely howl with laughter!! Who can forget their classic argument skit? Or the funniest (and deadliest) joke in the world? Or the Ministry of Silly Walks?

Unlike the Fab Four, the Pythons' exposure to American audiences was not the result of a single appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. It was a gradual experiment that began in, of all places, Texas....by which time the Flying Circus had ceased production. In 1971 the Pythons had released a feature film called AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT, but in actuality it was a compendium of their zaniest sketches, which also included the Olympic hide and go seek event, the Blackmail game show, and, let us not forget, the upper class twit of the year.

By 1975, the troupe had gained sufficient popularity to embark on their first bona-fide movie made strictly for the silver screen: MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL. Like on the Beatles' A HARD DAY'S NIGHT, this Fab Six didn't have a big budget to play around with, but they sure managed to make do with less! With Chapman playing the lead role of King Arthur, the others basked in playing so many multiple characters they would have made chameleons like Alec Guinness and Peter Sellers envious. The HOLY GRAIL script called for at least five castles, but there was only enough room in their funds for just one. That problem was rectified by simply filming the garrison available to them by using different camera angles. However, my favorite behind-the-scenes anecdote involves horses; because they couldn't afford any, the "riders" merely skipped along onfoot and emulated the clippety-clop sound of equine hooves by banging two coconuts together. 🤣

Satirizing Arthurian legend, the movie takes place in 932 England ~pre Norman conquest~ where Arthur, King of the Britons, and his servant Patsy "gallop" the moorish countryside. The Pythons waste no time getting to the side-splitting hilarity as Arthur stops at castle #1 and asks the gatekeeper up above if anyone there wishes to join him in his court of Camelot. What begins as a recruiting inquiry escalates into a fluctuating discussion about coconuts within a temperate zone and the migratory patterns of unladen swallows, whether they be European or African.

Moving on, Arthur, approaching castle #2, inquires about its occupancy to a peasant named Dennis(!), where it soon devolves into a very funny discourse ~with Marxist overtones~ over "outdated imperialist dogma" nine centuries before Communist Manifesto was even published. Okay....so no knights of Camelot are to be enlisted here!! The most fondly remembered scene in the movie quickly ensues as Arthur reluctantly engages in a sword fight with the Black Knight ("Tis but a scratch).

In time King Arthur assembles his court of Camelot (a silly place!), starting with Sir Belvedere, followed by Sir Galahad, Sir Lancelot, Sir Robin, and assorted squires and minstrels. Oh.... I forgot to mention Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Film.😄 One day God himself appears from the heavens and orders Arthur to find the Holy Grail. Castle #3 beckons as Arthur unsuccessfully attempts to barter with its French occupants ~more than a century before the Norman conquest.

Realizing that they may have a better chance of locating the Grail separately Arthur and his fellowship ~I mean, his knights~ temporarily split up in the hopes of regrouping at a later date. The not-so-brave Robin has the least success, showing his true colors by chickening out of confrontations. Meanwhile, an exhausted Galahad collapses at the doorstep of castle #4, drawn there by the grail shaped beacon lit high above. He is tended to by more than two dozen virginal young women who haven't seen a man in ages and are desperately wanting to be deflowered. Sadly, Galahad is "saved" by Lancelot, who drags him away from the peril despite repeated pleas from Galahad to let him stay behind and "face the peril".🤣

As for Lancelot, he has his own (mis)adventure when, assuming he's rescuing a fair lass being forced to marry against her will, storms into the grounds of castle #5 and slaughters more than half of the wedding guests. It turns out the lass in question is actually the effeminate son of a wealthy landowner using the marriage as an opportunity to acquire more land. Meantime, in Scene 24 ~a "smashing scene with some lovely acting"~ Arthur and Belvedere receive cryptic clues about the Grail's location from a mysterious old man, and soon come face to face with the dreaded Knights Who Say Ni.

Directed by the two Terrys, MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL is an unconventionally disjointed comedy that goes off in all sorts of loopy directions. But this is not a critique because that was exactly how the Flying Circus was constructed, with Terry Gilliam's delightfully crude animation linking everything together. The movie's opening credits alone are a blueprint for the silliness to come, with fake Swedish subtitles and endless references to moose. (ie. Miss Taylor's moose by....)😂 Even Richard Nixon gets a nod.

Neil Innes, the unofficial "seventh Python", proves himself invaluable to them in the music department. A musical satirist, Innes joined the Flying Circus for their final season and contributed to their comedy albums. On THE HOLY GRAIL, in addition to appearing on-screen as one of Robin's minstrels, Innes delivers a pretty good score, one that's compatible with a medieval motion picture, not to mention a pair of interesting parody songs about the knights of the Round Table and the (not so) brave, brave Sir Robin.

Special kudos must also be reserved to the Pythons for their remarkably accurate visual interpretation of the Middle Ages. Many past movies set in feudalism England always portrayed it with a certain pageantry featuring the type of costumes and set designs that usually received Oscar nominations. The well read Pythons countered that myth by showing the mud, blood, and complete lack of glamor. The seemingly never-ending cold Scottish precipitation made filming physically uncomfortable, but, in the end, it contributed enormously to THE HOLY GRAIL's medieval composition.

Released to mixed reviews in 1975, the ensuing decades have been very kind to MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL, where it is now justifiably regarded as one of the funniest movies ever made, as surely as the Flying Circus was to television. The Pythons proved to be highly influential on every subsequent laughfest in its wacky wake. Let's face it; without them, there would have been no Saturday Night Live, no South Park, and no Simpsons. When it came to defining comedy, Monty Python's gift seemed almost sent from heaven. 🔚

Rome, Open City (1945)

Eternal struggle in the Eternal City.

[10/10 · 17 December 2023]

The gritty naturalism of postwar Italy's neorealist movement was a turning point in motion pictures, although no one realized it at the time. This was cinema verite long before the French coined that term to describe their own New Wave. But Italy's cinematic Renaissance was inaugurated by Roberto Rossellini's OPEN CITY, also known as ROME OPEN CITY. Ironically, it wasn't a postwar film per se; released to great acclaim in 1945, it was actually made while the conflict was still going on, just months after Rome was liberated by the Allies.

Prior to Mussolini's downfall, Italy in fact had a thriving movie industry. Taking a page out of the Goebbels playbook, the Fascists painted a deliberately misleading and rosy portrait of life under Il Duce. The Ministry of Popular Culture manufactured glossy entertainments from inside Rome's newly built Cinecitta Studios. Under the watchful eye of a censor that would rival the Hays Office in Hollywood, absolutely nothing of a critical nature ever got shown in an Italian theater, unless it was of Mussolini's enemies. All that audiences were allowed to see were (a) harmless light comedies which championed bourgeoisie conservatism or (b) newsreel images that played up Mussolini's cult of personality ~and enormous ego.

By the time of liberation, Italy's movie industry was in ruins, where Cinecitta was badly damaged from the aerial bombings, and therefore considered unusable. OPEN CITY was originally conceived as a documentary about a Catholic priest executed by the Nazis for assisting the partisans, but Rossellini scrapped that idea in favor of making a fictional melodrama based on those events. Few films in history were made on as shoestring a budget as OPEN CITY. Rossellini was able to secure financing through a private backer, and to stretch the lira as far as possible he employed nonprofessionals in his cast. (He even used German prisoners-of-war as extras). If truth be told, the only trained actors to be found in the entire picture were Aldo Fabrizi (as the priest) and the great Anna Magnani.

Production was a daily uphill battle for Rossellini. Having to contend with location shooting amidst a shattered metropolis ~as opposed to inside a comfortable studio~ also meant a scarcity of electricity for the lighting, compelling the director to utilize natural light as a cost effective alternative....except, of course, for the night scenes. But OPEN CITY's most formidable obstacle was a depleting supply of film stock, occasionally forcing Rossellini to trade with the black market. To everyone's rescue was Rod Geiger, a Signal Corps officer in the U. S. Army currently stationed in Rome following the Liberation. Geiger was instrumental in providing Rossellini with enough unused raw celluloid which allowed him to complete OPEN CITY. Out of gratitude, the director gave Geiger an on-screen credit.

For the benefit of those unfamiliar with the definition of an open city, allow me to fill in the blanks. During a war, it means that any given city under the threat of siege by enemy forces will relax its defensive fortifications to prevent wholesale destruction of its infrastructure and civilian population. To save their their landmarks from further aerial bombardment, in 1943, Rome declared its open status shortly after the hated Mussolini was deposed, and then the new government serving King Emanuel quietly began negotiating a peace treaty with the Allies. Hitler, not pleased over his Axis partner's ouster ~and seeking to protect his southern border~ quickly ordered his Army in to occupy Italy. What followed was a nine month ordeal of terror, arrests, torture, starvation, and death.

OPEN CITY begins as Third Reich troops advance on an apartment building to apprehend one Giorgio Manfredi, a Resistance fighter. But thanks to a tip from his landlady Manfredi escapes via the rooftops just on the nick of time. Fleeing to the home of his friend and fellow partisan Francisco, he discovers that his comrade is not at home. Manfredi encounters the man's hallway neighbor, the widowed Pina (Magnani), who happens to also be Francesco's pregnant fiancée. Pina herself is an anti-fascist and, though she has a spare key to her man's apartment, she's initially reluctant to allow Manfredi inside until she's confident he's not an undercover blackshirt.

Now that he's won her confidence, Manfredi asks Pina if she'll arrange to have Father Don Pietro, who, incidentally, is to officiate her marriage to Francesco the next day, come on over post haste. Pina delegates the task to her preteen son Marcello, a boy who, without his mother's knowledge, maintains the antifascist genetic line by being involved with a gang of prepubescent saboteurs. Arriving at the apartment, Pietro is requested to act as a courier ~because Manfredi is a marked man by the Gestapo~ and deliver funds to underground fighters located outside city limits, to which the priest unhesitatingly agrees.

The housing situation in wartime Rome is precarious. Pina and Marcello share their quarters with her parents and sister Laura, who works at a cabaret frequented by Nazis and Italian puppet officials. One of Laura's coworkers is Marina, Manfredi's girlfriend and a woman known to occasionally rent out her body to the enemy for material perks.

Suspecting that Manfredi is hiding inside Francesco's building, the Germans descend upon the premises and begin a comprehensive search. Evacuating all residents into the streets, the Gestapo conduct a room by room sweep but, fortunately, Manfredi once again gives them the slip. However, some Resistance weaponry was accidentally left behind so, to retrieve the contraband, Don Pietro courageously enters under the pretense of providing comfort to an old man too inform to be transported ~which is partially true.

Francesco, along with other men, is taken prisoner by the Germans, an action which leads to tragic consequences. After being freed by Italian partisans during a coordinated ambush, Francesco reconnects with Manfredi at Pietro's monastery. The priest has no qualms at all about sheltering anyone wanted by the Nazis, even if they're atheist. Dedicating his vocation to hearing other people unburdening their souls, he knows human beings aren't infallible. His perspective is that anyone devoting themselves to living a life of selflessness, regardless of religious affiliation, is a good person in the eyes of God. But Pietro will have tread carefully because any occupying power will have their amateur spy network willing to sell anyone out....including him.

OPEN CITY's grainy, semi-documentary appearance gives it an extraordinarily vivid feel, making it look less of a melodrama and more like we're watching a home movie depicting one of Italy's darkest chapters. Indeed, OPEN CITY was the antithesis of the melodramas that emerged out of Hollywood and Britain ~or Fascist Italy for that matter. Anna Magnani's peasanty contours were never the sort to rival Ingrid Bergman nor grace the cover of Vanity Fair. With an acting style often described as volcanic, Magnani gives Pina a fiery dignity befitting a woman carrying a child out of wedlock, something that puritans would frown upon in 1945. The success of OPEN CITY brought her renown for the first time outside of her native Italy.

Rossellini made no attempt to sanitize the unpleasant parts of OPEN CITY. One moment that stands out was the scene where a partisan in custody is tortured with a blowtorch, his screams of agony echoing into the next room. And to illustrate the depths of poverty and deprivation that everyday Italians faced, Rossellini inserted a brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it shot of an infant sitting on a receptacle that's obviously being used as a port-a-potty. You certain wouldn't see that in Hollywood.

As of 2023, OPEN CITY maintains a 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, a remarkable feat for a low budget movie made almost eighty years ago. It catapulted Rossellini to the forefront of international directors, and, although he never courted Hollywood, he successfully wooed Ingrid Bergman ~which opened up a different can of worms! The triumph of Rossellini and OPEN CITY paved the way for compatriots Luschino Visconti, Vittorio DeSica, and Federico Fellini to strut their considerable stuff on the cinematic pulpit.

Soon after, a rebuilt Cinecitta Studios opened up, earning itself the nickname "Hollywood on the Tiber" and allowing the Italian movie industry to flourish on a Golden Age that went on for twenty years, where Cinecitta also played host to such lavish American productions as ROMAN HOLIDAY and BEN HUR. As Claude Rains once said, "Big things have small beginnings".🔚

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

The best film of their careers.

[10/10 · 12 December 2023]

By the time he'd won his first Oscar for directing 1942's MRS MINIVER, William Wyler had already gone to war, enlisting with the Air Force and given the rank of major. Assigned to make documentaries for the war effort, Wyler personally shot much of the airborne footage shown in his newsreels, and did so numerous times at great personal risk. The exposure to anti-aircraft explosions caused permanent hearing loss in one ear which, upon discharge as a colonel, designated him as disabled.

Wyler's first film since coming home couldn't have been more apropos: THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES, a nearly three hour drama about the difficulties faced by returning servicemen attempting to re-adjust to civilian life. The property belonged to Sam Goldwyn, the independent mogul to whom Wyler was under contract in the prewar years. Goldwyn was intrigued by a Time magazine article he'd read which dealt with that very subject, and commissioned a screenplay from a correspondent who instead fashioned it into a novella. Pulitzer Prize winning dramatist Robert Sherwood, one of the members of the famous Algonquin Round Table, was later hired to adapt it for the screen. Having served in the Office of War Information, Sherwood could also relate to the topical material.

For THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES, Wyler assembled a stellar cast that starred Myrna Loy, Fredric March, Dana Andrews, Teresa Wright, and Virginia Mayo. Even Hoagy Carmichael, the composer of "Stardust", "Georgia On My Mind", and "Heart & Soul", was given a speaking part that allowed him to act while simultaneously playing the upright piano. But Wyler's most interesting casting choice involved a man who wasn't a professional actor at all. While glancing at some Army footage, he took notice of a young instructor named Harold Russell who'd lost both hands from a training explosion. Wyler felt that Russell's handicap familiarity and lack of acting experience would make him appear natural on the screen. The character of Homer Parrish was originally written as suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder, so Wyler changed his condition to a physical disability to accommodate Russell.

To further outline THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES' authenticity, Wyler instructed his cast to supply their own clothing ~presumably they were reimbursed~ because he felt that garments purchased off the rack would look more convincingly middle-class. I doubt the wardrobe unions in Hollywood was happy with Wyler's decision.

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES opens at a military air base where three men meet on a connecting flight to their fictional Midwestern home of Boone City. Air Force Captain Fred Derry (Andrews) is the highest ranking of the trio, a veteran of many bombing missions. Army Sergeant Al Stephenson (March) is a fortyish married father of two and a banking executive prior to Pearl Harbor. Navy noncom Homer is the youngest of them, a star athlete when he was in high school, but now an amputee after his hands were badly burned following a torpedo hit on his ship.

Sharing a cab from Boone City airport, Homer is the first to be dropped off at his parents' home. The Parrishes live in a modest suburban house straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting; the only thing missing is the white picket fence. As they see for the first time the metal hooks that now replace his hands, Mom and Dad awkwardly try to conceal their shock over his new appearance. Once inside,they nervously steer the conversation towards other topics to avoid asking him about the obvious. Homer's most pressing concern is whether childhood sweetheart Wilma, literally the girl next door, will continue to accept him now that he's a different man. But she isn't bothered too much by his disability; she's delighted that he's made it back alive.

Next to be let off is Al at his apartment, a place so upscale that Fred facetiously asks him if he's a retired bootlegger, to which Stephenson responds "Nothing as dignified as that. I'm a banker". Al finds that his adult children Peggy (Wright) and Rob have grown since he last saw them, but wife Millie (Loy) hasn't changed. Their reunion is one of the most emotional in movie history. With Al due to report back to to the bank in a few days, his boss intends to promote him to chief loans officer to deal with the influx of G. I.'s that will soon be applying for loans. For Al, his new position leaves him with conflicted feelings because many of his brother servicemen will not have the collateral necessary to secure financing.

Despite being the highest ranked militarily of the three, Fred's civilian status is the polar opposite of Al's. Raised by his father and stepmother on the poor side of town, his prewar occupation was that of a soda jerk ~a job which went obsolete in the Fifties~ at the local pharmacy. Just prior to his induction Fred entered into a quickie marriage with a woman he met at a dance and, now that the war is over, he and wife Marie will now get the chance to really become acquainted.

The trio unexpectedly reunite that evening at a bar owned by Homer's Uncle Butch. Fred is simply passing the time because he cannot get into his wife's apartment without a key....and she's working at some nightclub. As for Homer, he needs to get away from the (polite) uneasiness at the Parrish household. But the party really gets started when a thoroughly intoxicated Al shows up with Millie and Peggy, who ultimately serve as his designated drivers. The Stephenson women put an unconscious Fred up at their place given that he's unable to access his own During the night, Peggy gets a dose of what veterans experienced when she overhears a somnolent Fred going through posttraumatic flashbacks.

Life goes frustratingly on for our trio. Al begins drinking more than usual, although it never manifests itself into anything unpleasant, yet he alarms his superior by approving a risky lian to an aspiring farmer ~and veteran. Homer had already adjusted to using his mechanical hooks while still in the service; it's the loss of his prewar independence that's rankling to him in his postwar life. Fred has the toughest readjustment of the three. Aware that his halcyon days as a flier are behind him, he's humbly forced to ask for his old pharmacy job after all other avenues are exhausted. If his professional disappointments aren't humiliating enough, Fred's personal life is also taking a nosedive, as he and Marie are slowly discovering that they have nothing in common. His only bright light is the realization that he's in love with Peggy Stephenson....and vice versa!

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES struck a social nerve when it appeared at the end of 1946, the reason being that audiences decidedly identified with the characters and their struggles. Wyler elicited strong, unaffected performances from his cast, another positive consequence of his perfectionist reputation as "40 take Wyler". Of all the actors, it was the untrained Russell who benefited the most from the director's unorthodox style, having many chances to improve his acting to the point where it came across as completely natural. The Academy board of governors elected to award him a special statuette for "bringing aid and comfort to disabled veterans ".

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES represented the pinnacle for everyone involved. March (who won his second Oscar) and Loy proudly pronounced it the finest movie either had ever done. Dana Andrews had a terrific run at the box office from 1944 up to the end of the decade, and this was another stellar notch during that period. Teresa Wright, who, in her long career acted opposite leading men from Gary Cooper to Matt Damon, is affecting as Peggy. As for Wyler, he had one of the most storied of directorial achievements, but THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES is considered by many to be his Mount Everest.

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES was the big winner at the Academy Awards, claiming seven in total: Picture, Director, Actor, Music (which Wyler actually disliked), Screenplay, Editing, and Supporting Actor ~for Russell, to complement his Honorary one. Among its competitors was IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. Fans today may probably wonder in disbelief what movie could have possibly toppled Frank Capra's perennial Yuletide favorite at the Oscars. The answer is THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES, and for once, a beloved classic was bested by another equally beloved one.🔚

Rififi (1955)

No need to adjust the volume.

[10/10 · 8 December 2023]

One of the most influential and justifiably famous of all caper movies ~even more so than THE ASPHALT JUNGLE~ RIFIFI extended a badly needed life preserver to expatriate director Jules Dassin at a time when he was at his lowest ebb. In the aftermath of World War Two, Dassin's talent for making worthwhile second features would quickly bump him up to the big leagues. With solid A-pictures to his credits such as BRUTE FORCE, THE NAKED CITY, and NIGHT & THE CITY it seemed that he was destined for a career on par with John Huston. But then came the blacklist....

During the Great Depression, Dassin was a member of the Communist Party until 1939 when he resigned in disgust over the the signing of the Molotov Ribbentrop Non Aggression Pact. By the late Forties, the House of UnAmerican Activities Committee turned their pitchforks towards Hollywood, and Dassin was betrayed by fellow director Edward Dmytryk. Now blacklisted, he fled to Europe in the hopes of finding steady work there, but once across the Pond, Dassin discovered the pickings were just as slim there. Not willing to simply let him be, the vindictive State Department let it be known that any foreign film associates with him and other travelers would never find distribution in America.

For two years Dassin struggled to make ends meet, heartbroken over being unable to ply the trade he loved. But then, out of the blue, a Paris agency asked him if he wanted to adapt and direct a movie based on the crime novel "Du Rififi Les Hommes". Dassin hated the book, yet couldn't afford to say no, so he accepted the offer and then proceeded to revamp the script by fleshing out the characters and eliminating everything in the novel he found so offensive. With a low budget ruling out costly sets ~except for the Parisian nightclubs~ Dassin was forced to utilize much of the City of Lights' seedier locations to give RIFIFI a gritty edge.

RIFIFI's protagonist is Tony the Stephanois (whatever that is), a middle-aged criminal paroled from prison following a five year stretch for a jewel heist. Looking physically haggard along with a persistent cough, Tony nevertheless has a craggy face and no-nonsense demeanor whose body language speaks for itself, mainly "Don't mess with me!!!". Unsparing towards his enemies, he reserves his pleasant side only for his friends. Tony's code of honor compelled hom to take the full rap for a job he carried out with apprentice Jo the Swede, who'd just become a brand new father to the baby boy that is now Tony's godson. In gratitude, Jo brings his mentor into a caper where he and pal Mario Ferrati plan to smash and grab a couple of diamonds on display at Mappin & Webb's.

Feeling burnt out and not seeing the dividends as worth the risk, Tony tells them merci mais non merci. His next move is to pay a call on girlfriend Mado who, as it turned out, shacked up with another lover while he was doing his time. Seeing her dressed in unusually chic clothing brings out Tony's less than chivalrous side. The man she left him for was Pierre Grutter, a ruthless gangster and owner of the L'Age D'Or nightclub. Her new beau puts on a respectable front but is nothing more than a thug wearing an expensive suit. The slightly framed but tough as nails Tony is not in the least bit intimidated by neither Grutter nor his goons nor his drug addicted brother.

Disillusioned over Mado's betrayal, Tony contacts Jo to inform him of a change of mind regarding the planned robbery. But there's a stipulation. He insists on bypassing the gems in favor of breaking into the safe. Tony also stresses that weapons not be used. To crack into it the easygoing Mario suggests the best man available, César the Milanese ~played by Dassin, who took the part after the original actor backed out.

Bustling into Mappin & Webb's will require strategy, so Tony and Jo begin taking mental notes of the (a) opening and closing times of its adjacent shops, and (b) the frequency of patrolling gendarmes and delivery trucks. They also make an impression of the neighboring consigliere's should they need the key to get in. Meanwhile, pretending to be a potential customer, César nonchalantly checks the site out from inside, and notices a sophisticated alarm system put in place. Understanding that sometimes you need to spend a little money ~or, in this situation....steal it~ our foursome purchase a duplicate of the jeweler's alarm, and then test it out to discover its weakness. Other preparations include determining how hard or soft they will need to chisel through the ceiling above the safe.

Now that they've worked every detail out, the stage is set for the famous robbery sequence. On RIFIFI's Dvd, the chapter for this scene is entitled "Do not adjust your volume". What makes this bit of larceny so unique is that, for half an hour, it's done completely without any dialogue or soundtrack music; the only noise you'll hear is the chiseling and drilling. Dassin later explained that he filmed it this way because, in a job that requires intense concentration any clatter would be detrimental to them. As a result, the burglary becomes far more suspenseful than it would have been with sound, and the beads of sweat on the criminals' faces further heighten that tension.

Aside from Tony having to slug an inquisitive cop, the robbery goes according to plan, with 240 million francs worth of ice for them to fence through their contact in London. The crime has made front page headlines all across France with the authorities offering a reward for the stolen jewelry and information leading to the thieves' capture. Grutter already suspects Tony of being behind the heist....but he's not interested in the bounty; he'd rather have the ill-gotten gains instead. Be that as it may, he must confirm that Tony was indeed behind the caper.

We've all seen enough gangster and heist pictures to be familiar with the first rule after committing a robbery: don't draw attention to yourself by splurging. The perpetual womanizer César is the one who confirms what Grutter wants to know by flashing around an expensive ring he purloined during the crime. Under enhanced interrogation, César tells the mobster who his accomplices were; he just doesn't know where the gems are currently stashed. Aware that Tony can never be strong-armed into handing them over, Grutter realizes another form of coercion will have to be applied, namely by involving an innocent party.

Considering RIFIFI's budgetary constraints, Dassin and his crew do a remarkable job of removing all traces of parsimony. The black & white photography of nighttime Paris is so vividly captured it rivals the best of Hollywood's film noir....and looks a lot grittier too. Yet there's also a little room for glamor, just not that much. One such touch of pizzazz is when the title tune is sung by César's girlfriend at the L'Age D'Or. Performing in silhouette to the rear of the stage is a mime, to the accompaniment of the accordion, a musical instrument that's as synonymous with France as the Eiffel Tower.

RIFIFI was immensely popular upon release in France in the spring of 1955. Other countries such as Finland and Spain originally banned it because they felt that the robbery sequence was an unintended educational seminar for thieves. America's ban....well, that was for obvious reasons. But RIFIFI's triumph at the Cannes Film Festival with the prestigious Palme D'Or made it impossible to ignore. Gradually, it found its way into those nations that initially refused distribution on account of the word of mouth and the critical acclaim.

Thanks to RIFIFI, Jules Dassin's career was resuscitated from the dead, but by no means was Hollywood welcoming him back with open arms, nor did he even have a burning desire to return anyway. With the blacklist remaining firmly in place, he preferred to take up residence in a less toxic atmosphere now that he was free to practice his art. Dassin soon met the woman who would become his next wife, actress Melina Mercouri. They settled down in Europe to collaborate on a few projects, including TOPKAPI, a movie with a plot similar to that of RIFIFI.

The success of RIFIFI was such that it spawned many heist films containing the word "Rififi" in their titles, despite none of them having any affiliation whatsoever with the original. Crime may not pay in real life ~or so they say~ but it damn well does at the box office. 🔚

Citizen Kane (1941)

The biggest electric train set of them all.

[10/10 · 4 December 2023]

Widely regarded by every critic and cineaste as the greatest film ever made, the making of CITIZEN KANE can constitute a movie all by itself....and it did! In 1999, an HBO picture called RKO-281 dramatized Orson Welles' behind-the-scenes odyssey and, most recently, David Fincher's MANK detailed its production from Herman Mankiewicz' point of view. CITIZEN KANE set the gold standard for screen excellence; any movie considered the epitome of its specific genre is often referred to as "the CITIZEN KANE of.."! Yet this masterpiece came very close to never seeing the light of day.

Before Robin appeared in Batman comics, Orson Welles was roundly considered the boy wonder. A child prodigy, Welles founded the Mercury Theatre while still in his early twenties. It was an apt title because he was often described as a mercurial personality. In 1938, Welles became famous ~or infamous~ for his legendary radio broadcast of "War Of The Worlds" that convinced thousands and thousands of panicky Americans that the Martians had landed in New Jersey.

The stunt brought him nationwide attention, including from Hollywood. The offers poured in, with RKO Pictures giving him the one he couldn't refuse: carte blanche to write, direct, produce, and star in whatever project he wished. Welles later recalled it as "the biggest electric train set a boy ever received". And he had never made a motion picture before! But being a quick study and having an IQ of 185, Welles screened the films of Chaplin, Ford, and Renoir to get a clear idea of the intricacies of good filmmaking. Luckily for him, he had a superb cinematographer to help him navigate the rough edges: Gregg Toland.

Working in collaboration with Mankiewicz, the project Welles audaciously chose to dramatize was about the rise of fictional newspaper tycoon named Charles Foster Kane. There was, however, one major landmine straight ahead!! Kane was a thinly disguised roman à clef of William Randolph Hearst, the powerful and vindictive press baron whose influence was widespread. Hollywood was a community not known for its secrets ~unless it was to protect their investments~ and the rumor mill was rife with gossip about Welles' supposedly covert enterprise.

Hearst responded furiously once he discovered RKO's unflattering "fictional" of him. He didn't have the clout to stop its making but he did wield enough power to ensure that few people ever got the chance to see CITIZEN KANE. Fearing the wrath of Hearst, Hollywood's studios, which depended heavily on his papers for advertising, offered RKO a generous sum of cash to incinerate the original negative. When that effort failed, the magnate ordered every reporter on his payroll, particularly columnist Louella Parsons, to discredit CITIZEN KANE and Welles himself.

The art of filmmaking has evolved so much since the movie camera's invention that it's difficult to appreciate what a game changer CITIZEN KANE was. Flashbacks were a common narrative device, but Welles came up with the innovative idea of starting his picture at the end, namely with the death of his protagonist. With Toland's immeasurable assistance, Welles has the camera pan up, down, and across the vast estate of Xanadu before the famous closeup of Kane's lips whispering "Rosebud" prior to drawing his final breath.

The next sequence is a March Of Dimes-like newsreel announcing the great man's demise, followed by a brief celluloid obituary of his life and controversial career, all of which parallel Hearst's own. Welles and Toland concocted a brilliant touch by carefully applying sandpaper to the newsreel footage to give it an authentically grainy feel. As the tribute is finished, a group of men are curious about Kane's last word, which wasn't mentioned in the newsreel. A reporter named Thompson, whose face is concealed by shadows, is assigned to investigate the origin of "Rosebud", its meaning, and the relevance to the late tycoon.

Thompson begins by combining through the archives of Mr Thatcher, Kane's late investment banker. The private papers reveal that, as a boy, his family became wealthy thanks to a Colorado gold find. Young Charles' overprotective mother starts a trust fund for him to play with when he reaches the age of 25. Over the father's objections, she also arranges for Thatcher to become his legal guardian and take the boy with him to receive a proper education at an Ivy League school.

Thompson's first interviewee is Bernstein, Kane's longtime business manager, who recounts his boss' acquisition of a newspaper and how he turned it into a scandal sheet. Kane's intent was to create a paper for all people to read, no matter what their societal standing may be. Translated, that means he wants to dumb the news down with sensation, salacious gossip, and fluff pieces. Bernstein also recalls Kane's ambition outside of his expanding empire as an influencer, 100 years before the advent of social media, using his papers to to successfully foment the Spanish-American War. "You provide the prose poems, I'll provide the war".

Next to be interviewed is Kane's former best friend and drama critic Jedediah Leland (Joseph Cotten). Leland shares memories of Kane's marriage to the President's niece, plus his aspirations to hold the Oval Office, the affair with Susan Alexander that ended his political dreams, his coercing the marginally talented Susan into a reluctant opera career, and the bitter falling out between Kane and Jedediah.

After originally denying Thompson a sit-down, the second Mrs Kane, Susan Alexander grants him permission to ask her what life was like with her controlling husband after they tied the knot....and how the marriage ultimately broke down. And finally, Kane's butler Raymond describes the emptiness of his employer's life when Susan finally left him. But having amassed many details about the private Charles Foster Kane which the public never knew about, Thompson is no closer to discovering the meaning of "Rosebud"....

Owing to CITIZEN KANE, Welles virtually revolutionized how movies were made. I've already mentioned how he and Mankiewicz reinvented the narrative structure....but visually Welles and Gregg Toland opened up new doors with their use of deep focus photography, a process that enabled both foreground and background to be seen with the utmost sharpness. Other pioneering techniques included the lowest of low-angle shots by cutting a hole in the studio floor to fit Toland's camera in....and that's how they were able to get the ceiling into the frame with Kane and Leland. Prior to CITIZEN, a ceiling had never been seen in a motion picture before because, traditionally, that was where all the microphones would normally be situated!!

Another person making his movie debut was Bernard Herrmann, the great composer who later worked with Hitchcock. In the editing room was Robert Wise, who would also go on to greater heights as an Oscar winning director (WEST SIDE STORY; THE SOUND OF MUSIC). Additionally, the make-up department rose to the occasion by creating new prosthetics to apply on the actors, and therefore making the characters' aging look more convincing.

At first, Hearst's malevolent campaign to malign CITIZEN KANE paid off. Radio City Music Hall was bullied into canceling a special screening, and all of his media outlets panned the movie. For a while, Welles himself was considered persona non grata by almost every studio in Hollywood except R. K. O. Only the newspapers unaffiliated with Hearst gave rave reviews to CITIZEN KANE. Although it greatly accelerated the careers of Welles' co-stars ~especially Cotten~ CITIZEN KANE itself quietly petered out of circulation. But Hollywood's filmmakers took notice of the film's groundbreaking techniques and were generous in their public praise of Welles.

Nominated for 9 Academy Awards, including 4 for Welles, CITIZEN KANE claimed only one, for original screenplay, and frankly, even that was miraculous in light of the toxic clout Hearst wielded over Hollywood. It remains a powerful commentary about the uncompromising pursuit of power, and the distance it places that person from the remainder of the human race. Welles may have lost the battle with Hearst, but eventually he won the war. When he died in 1985, Welles could be secure in the knowledge that he created a work of art that will live on forever. 🔚